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yall-batman-fanfic · 11 days ago

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Moving In | Batman/Bruce Wayne x Magician!Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: Vivian and Bruce have been missing things in their homes. Having enough of the back and forth, and Bruce asking him about his tie or watch or socks, Dick tells them both to put on their grown-up pants and move in together. But moving in isn't that easy, especially for those who have been in the relationship for only a year and some change, especially when splitting the bills.

“Alfred, have you seen my blue tie?” Bruce asked as he settled on his seat at the table wearing his business suit minus the tie.

Vivian and Dick were already getting a headstart with breakfast and were busy doing their own thing – Dick with a last minute essay and Vivian with the newspaper. Alfred walked in the room with two ties in hand, one red and the other black and said, “Last I recall you have more ties than the department store in the mall, Master Bruce, but it seems you have lost the rest and what remains are two. Take your pick.”

This wasn't the first time it happened, Bruce not finding pieces of his clothes and watches. For the past few weeks he’s been missing things in his drawers and couldn't remember where he put them. Which was uncharacteristic of him to do so.

Vivian finally folded the newspaper and looked at Alfred and then at Bruce to see why he didn't just pick either when she saw the blue suit he wore. And she thought women had a short supply of blouses and skirts for their everyday work.

“I think I know where that suit's tie is,” Vivian said.

“Do you want to elaborate?” Bruce raised a brow at her.

“I did some cleaning at my place the other day and I swear I saw some mens’ ties in my condo. I think you left a couple of them at my place when you stayed over.”

Bruce sighed. “I doubt they're pressed.”

“I haven't visited my place this week, Bruce. Don't expect my neighbor to be that nice to do my laundry.”

“I'll pick you up from Gotham University so I can get them from your place.”

Dick snorted. “Yeah, like that will happen. Please, the most likely possibility that would happen is you staying the night over at Viv's and leaving another set of clothes there.”

When Bruce was about to retort, Alfred piped in and said, “Master Dick does have a point, Sir. I'm afraid that you are in your last pair of socks…”

“That's not right — I come home before my patrols –”

“Yeah, but for last week, you went straight to my place and changed there to your night-shift uniform, and then headed home,” Vivian pointed out.

“I think I'll need a bag for later,” Bruce muttered.

“By the way, have any of you seen my maroon blazer? I couldn't find it anywhere. I've been circulating with just brown, plaid, black, and beige.”

“And I thought Bruce has more blazers than an average person does,” Dick said to her.

“Kiddo, I don't have three sets of each of those colors. Bruce has, like, five sets for each color. So, if I lose one of those, I'll be repeating the same thing in the week. Catherine already noticed that I was wearing my tweed jacket thrice this week.”

“If I may, I believe I found that maroon blazer in the laundry last week. I've had it cleaned and pressed, along with our other clothings, and placed it in your personal closet, Professor Pryor,” Alfred told them.

“I have a closet here?” Vivian asked, quite surprised.

“Yes. You tend to leave quite a lot of personal items in the manor. I wasn't sure if it would be fitting to place it with Master Bruce's personal shelves, so I opted to place it on your own. In hopes of you noticing their absence, I was willing to pack them up for you, Professor.”

Vivian, Bruce, and Dick looked at the butler with a bewildered look. Everyone was silent until Dick said, “Why not just give them to her the next day?”

“Considering Professor Pryor's frequent stays in the Manor, I thought she was well aware of her clothings’ presence as I also prepared them for her morning.”

This time it was Vivian who spoke, “Thank you, Alfred. That is very appreciated, but I think I would — ” she turned to Bruce “-- I think I'll be heading back here later to get my things. I'll bring a bag with me to get all of them.”

Dick scoffed. “In other words, you’ll be back here to leave another set of clothes which you'll forget until you realize you ran out in your closet.”

“Thank you, Dick. For the encouragement that I will get my place in order again.”

Rolling his eyes, Dick got up from his seat, finished with his meal, and went to pack his things. “There is a way for you to stop missing your socks or ties or jackets.”

“And what is it?” Bruce questioned him but was not really interested in the answer as he was more focused on his breakfast.

Dick looked at the two with a deadpan look on his face and said, “Do you really need me to spell it out for you both? Move-in together! Jeez!”

“Uhh…” Vivian and Bruce turned to each other, quite unsure with what to say. While the former had a hesitant and more concerned look on her face, Bruce suddenly had an epiphany. Dick does have a point. Vivian has been staying longer in the Manor now with her being part of Batman's behind the scenes operations by helping Alfred in the Batcave, research, sometimes a consultant whenever the Riddler or King Tut would be their current adversary.

“It's not really that easy,” Vivian was the first to speak. “I mean, we've only been dating for a…” she did some counting. “A year?”

“Three, Vivian,” Bruce told her.

“Oh, we have been that long now?” Vivian drank her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “I wasn't aware… time sure does fly.”

“We don’t really celebrate our anniversaries so I don’t really – really? Three years? That’s just… wow.”

Dick snickered. “Three years and you’re still going back and forth like a bunch of teenagers? Really?”

“Aren't you, like, thirteen? How would you know about relationships?” Vivian raised a brow at him.

“Fourteen. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who's actually had a normal relationship. More normal than this household's current standards with villains, cats, demons, dark wizards, and a long list of models,” Dick teased them both but mostly Bruce as he saw the glare from his guardian.

“Shouldn't you be at school by now?” Bruce told him.

“I'm going!” Dick took his bag and lunch and went to the door with Alfred to take him to school.

Once they heard the door close, Bruce sighed and turned to Vivian who found her coffee more interesting at the moment. “As much as I hate to say it but,” Bruce began waiting for her to turn to him and listen. “Dick has a point.”

“Moving in, Bruce? That's a huge step.”

“Vivian, we're practically living together by now with our current arrangement. And I think we're both adults to consider moving in together.”

Vivian placed down her coffee and sat facing him. “I guess if moving in is the case it's me who is going to uproot everything and come to the manor. Right?”

Bruce took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I don't think your landlord would appreciate having the Batcave there… but if you're not ready, I understand. Or we could find somewhere in Gotham –”

“Bruce, it was a joke. Of course, I’m open to moving in here with you. It's just that…”

“What?”

“I don't think I can keep up with the utilities or the maintenance or the groceries of this place. I've seen the cupboards and the refrigerator, and mine is like just half or a quarter of those things in your kitchen. I mean, my kitchen is like the size of Alfred's pantry.”

“You don't need to worry about all those things. I'll take care of those.”

“What? No. I can't just live here for free!”

“Why not? Aren't we both –”

Vivian got up from her seat. “It's different. You letting me stay here is like me letting you stay at my place. I don't let you pay for things there just as you don't let me pay for things here. If I move in, it's just all you – and I can't take that. It'll be — it just won't feel right. You know?”

Bruce sighed. Pryor-Royce pride, he thought, remembering her family who came to visit from Liverpool. Specifically the conversation he had with her sister, Olivia Pryor-Royce who was now training in the army.

“Why don't we discuss this after our day? We can sit down and talk about it and make an arrangement that will fit us both,” said Bruce.

“Yeah, that's a good idea,” Vivian sighed. “Besides, I need to go now. Shit, Alfred already left, I’ll call a cab.”

Another hurdle. The commute. Vivian would be spending a lot of money with a cab just to get to Gotham University from Wayne Manor.

“I'll drive you there.”

“It's off your route, Bruce.”

“We're not living together yet. For today, let me drive you without your conscience getting in the way.”

“Funny, really funny, Wayne.”

~*~

It was lunch and Vivian was eating with her colleagues in the cafeteria when she suddenly asked her married colleagues at the table with her, “When did you decide it was time to move in?”

Everyone paused in their meals and turned to her with a bewildered look. In that silence it was only Catherine, who was a few years older than her in age and tenure, and is married with kids, asked, “Why the question, Vivian?”

Vivian turned to them and noticed the confusion, “I think it’s pretty obvious why I’m asking, Catherine… Fine, just this morning, Bruce and I are having trouble with the inventory of our things. Some of his things are at my place and some of my things are with him. It was driving us crazy for the past few days, and Dick suggested that we just move in together so we avoid these kinds of things. Now we’re considering it.”

“Hold on,” Greg spoke. He was the eldest at their table with a balding head and thick glasses. “All this time you’re both not living together?”

“Yes. Yes, Greg, we haven’t been living together. What makes you think that we were in the first place – hold on, do all of you think we’ve been living together?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, “Billionaire-Bruce-Wayne takes you here and picks you up almost everyday now, and if not him then this butler. He even has a designated parking space, Via.”

“I see…” Looking back at it now, Vivian realized she hasn’t taken the bus in a while now. Hell, she doesn’t even know if there was a new schedule or there was something new in the train station too. She rarely sees Herb the Bus Driver or Herb the Creep who is stationed at 34th Street with his cart of worldly possession. She also hasn’t been wearing sneakers to work too, she goes straight to her heels or boots, her bag has also become heavier than usual with the work she brings home or with the lunches that Alfred packs for her. Along with the extra thermos of coffee that he would make willingly.

And her hair. When was the last time she had to put it in a bun before fixing it in the university bathroom only so it wouldn’t get sooth or frizzy with the humidity and pollution, along with fixing her makeup in the university too.

When did she start not doing those things? She wondered, and she asked her colleagues that question. Their answers were:

“About a year ago?” Catherine asked.

“Two years, give or take,” said Greg.

“When did you both get back together?” Justine was counting with his fingers.

“So… Two years and some change,” Vivian sighed. “So, when is the right time to move in?”

“Honey, you should have moved in a long time ago,” Catherine rolled her eyes at the obvious. “If I were you, the moment Bruce Wayne asked me out, I’d be the good and perfect girl and be packing my things the moment he invited me over.”

Uh…

“Justine, how about you?” Vivian asked him, which gained a wince from their other colleagues for him.

“Why me?” Justin asked.

“We’re the same age and you’ve been in a couple of long-term relationships. When is the right time to move in?”

“I don’t really… the last girlfriend I had that we did move in together. We were two years in the relationship – but, we were in uni then and we decided to rent an apartment than take a dorm that’s fucking expensive in GU.”

“Noted,” Vivian sighed.

“But if you’re not ready, you really shouldn’t push it. I mean, if you’re going to move in with him, you gotta be sure that he’s the one, right – ow!” Justin turned to Catherin who stepped on his foot with her heel. “I assume that you’ll be moving in with him since I doubt rich-boy-Bruce-Wayne won’t be uprooting from his ancestral home? I mean, I doubt Wayne would survive a condo without a butler.”

This time it was Vivian who gave him the look. He’s always been vocal of his dislike towards Bruce for two things: his wealth and the fact Bruce – in her colleagues and students’ words — stole every chance he had with Vivian. She decided to ignore all of that and maintain a good working relationship with him but there are times when he crosses the line and she puts him in his place.

The first time he spoke out of line when she and Bruce got back together, Vivian said to him: “Justin, you had every chance to ask me out for the past years I started working here. My desk is literally just one arm away from yours in the faculty office, but you didn’t. Because you were too afraid to – because you were playing safe. Hell, I even asked you out a couple of times but you brushed it off as a friendly night-out. I even gave you hints that you can kiss me!

“You’re just angry that Bruce had the guts to do what you couldn’t all those times I was free. And no, it’s not about the fancy dinners or the out of the city trips, because I also take him to food truck dates or those open mic places and he doesn’t mind! I appreciate your concern about him hurting me but it’s not your job to tell me what I should do. You’re my friend and I will consider your opinions but that’s it. And I want us to stay friends considering we’ll be working in the university for a long time. So, please, not another word about Bruce or my relationship with him. Okay?”

After that night Justin didn’t talk to her for months until they were tasked to oversee a student event and he was forced to.

“But you are going to move in with him in Wayne Manor, right?” Greg asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Vivian shrugged.

“Do you want to?” Justin asked, this time sincerely concerned for her.

Vivian thought long and hard but all she said was, “Bruce said he was willing to move in with me in a smaller place but it’s not just him – there’s Alfred and Dick to consider too. Who am I to just take them from their home, right?”

~*~

Bruce arrived at Gotham University and parked at his usual spot, but before he could lock his car Vivian was already walking towards him with her things. He greeted her halfway with a kiss and took her bag from her hold. It was heavier than usual, she was probably going to do some work at home or do work while she sits behind the Batcomputer tonight.

“So, should we get takeout before we head to your place and get my things? Dick begged to get some burgers and fries for dinner,” said Bruce.

“Let’s head to my place first to get our things and then drive-thru.”

Vivian opened the door of the car but before she could get in Bruce asked her, “What do you mean get our things? I thought the idea was not to leave more stuff in the manor.”

Vivian shrugged. “My closet in the manor has most of my clothes now anyway, and we both know where this discussion is heading, right?”

“You want to move into the Manor?” Bruce smiled.

Vivian rolled her eyes when she saw his smile and got in the car so they could talk more. Bruce got in the car, started the engine with his car key, and waited for her response.

“Yes, Bruce, I wanna move into the Manor – but tonight, I think my first and second drawer would be possible. I can set a weekend to pack my things so I can bring them there — and it just gives us more time to discuss how we’re going to put my things there. I mean, do I get my own room or are we sharing yours?”

Bruce laughed and held her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. “We can go into details later. First, are you sure you want to move into the Manor? You think three-years isn’t too early?”

“Do you plan on kicking me out soon or do you see this not working out?”

“No! God, no. And you?”

Vivian reached out to him with her free hand, brushing the hair at the back of his head, and leaned in to kiss his lips. “No. God, no,” she mimicked his words. “I think it’s time we put on our grown-up pants and take the next step – like Dick said.”

“So, we’re really doing this now… okay, let’s get some of your things and we can settle them in the closet that Alfred made for you in the manor – for now – and then we go get Dick’s burgers. Then we talk about how we’re going to do this.”

“Down to the very detail, Wayne. I mean, we need to discuss splitting bills, right?” Bruce shrugged, but his grin never faltered.

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And what you’re going to do with your condo.”

“I’ll put it out for rent.”

“So, you got that covered, huh?”

“I have some people who are interested and would want to move in as soon as possible.”

“Then I guess we better get the movers this weekend… and Viv, you’re not getting your own room. We’ll have that closet of yours moved to our room where you’ll be sleeping in our bed. But I feel like you’d prefer your own study?”

“I get my own study?” Vivian laughed.

“Of course.”

“I’m sure you saw that my study is actually my living room or my dining table or my kitchen counter, right? And I only get a space in the faculty office.”

“You’ll get your own study with a ceiling to floor bookshelf.”

Vivian kissed him again. “I can’t wait to head home now so we can talk more about this study that we’ll be locking the doors to get away from Dick and Alfred.”

~*~

That night, Batman and Robin went home a bit earlier than usual patrols, and when they came back Bruce had Dick head to bed while he went to see Vivian in their bedroom and invited her to the kitchen where he had taken out for them both. A midnight snack while they discuss their arrangements.

It was around three in the morning now, they were halfway through their fries. Luckily Vivian’s first class was in the afternoon and Bruce didn’t have a meeting until three later. All this time they were discussing their arrangements and how they’ll be splitting the bills, when nothing seems to get to them, Alfred, who heard the ruckus in the kitchen, got out of bed to see what was going on.

Which was how the poor man ended up between the two adults fueled by coffee and fast food, mediating their discussion on bills and contributions. It took a while but in the end they finally managed to come to an agreement.

Yawning, Alfred laid out on the final paper the terms the couple had agreed on. “So, on this final decision that Master Bruce and Professor Pryor have settled,” he yawned again, glancing at the window he realized that the sun was coming up and he’ll need to start breakfast soon. “For this move-in to take place. All utilities, groceries, and maintenance of the Manor will be taken care of by Master Bruce – as per usual. But starting next semester, Professor Pryor will be paying for Master Dick’s schooling, which includes tuition, miscellaneous, projects, allowances, and school trips until he goes to college, and if Master Dick decides to go to college –”

“He is,” the couple said.

“At least you’re both in agreement on that,” Alfred muttered. “I wonder what Master Dick has to say about it… to continue, any personal expenses will be pay by each to their own. Personal assets will also remain to each of their own. Now, the discussion about Professor Pryor’s mode of transportation. To make things simple, the Professor will be acquiring a car – brand new, as per Master Bruce’s insistence, and an economy-sedan, as per Professor Pryor’s preference. The down payment will be made by Master Bruce but for the remaining monthly payments it will be for Professor Vivian to carry. But any future maintenance that is caused by criminal elements in the streets, Master Bruce will pay for the repairs or purchase a new car – a car in which will be Professor Pryor’s choosing. Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think that’s about it,” Vivian hid her yawn. “You good with this, Wayne?” she turned to Bruce who was also hiding a yawn.

“I’m good with this. Today we’re going to find you a car.”

“No, today, you both will be going to bed and then going to work in the afternoon. And after that you both will go home, rest, have a good meal and a good night’s sleep. Is that clear?” Alfred said in a commanding tone.

Seeing that they have no room for objections, the two adults nodded and said, “Yes, Alfred.”

“Good, now sign here and be off to bed. I shall inform Master Dick about your absence for breakfast and take him to school.”

Vivian and Bruce quickly signed their agreements and had their copies with them. They were kicked out of the kitchen by Alfred before they could get another cup of coffee and locked in their bedroom door and called out, “Goodnight!”

They didn’t go to sleep immediately that hour. How could they when after planning and the arguments, they needed a good release. But they did fall asleep once they finished and in the most uncomfortable position too, which led to a stiff neck and a sore shoulder.

~*~

It was either an BMW or a Mercedes-Benz. Vivian opted for a Toyota Vios or a Honda City but Bruce took her to those fancy car showrooms where he’s got a lot of connections. At first he showed her Toyota’s cars there, which she told him, “the fact Dick is happy to be here means this isn’t for me,” and pointed to the fourteen-year-old grinning ear-to-ear at a Toyota GR86 and was about to agree to go on a test ride until Vivian told the showroom people, “He’s fourteen years old.”

“I can drive,” Dick told her. He can and he can drive the Batmobile.

“You’re fourteen,” Vivian repeated, which was enough to say anymore.

Dick sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her to the other side of the room. “I can drive.”

“Remember: a normal family. Dick, and normal families don’t have fourteen-year-olds driving a freaking tank chasing criminals,” Vivian whispered to him.

After leaving Toyota’s sports car showroom, they went to the next place which was Mercedes-Benz. This time the place they went had an economy-sedan but the brand itself was too much for her taste. Then there was the BMW, which she will admit was way more her preference with its subtlety, which was important in Gotham so no one would think of car-jacking the vehicle.

Getting the possible cars she could choose from, the group of three went to the cafe not far from the showrooms for lunch. Dick was excited for the pizza he ordered and couldn’t wait for it so he decided to start with the appetizers served, all the while Bruce and Vivian were going through the brochures and the quotations along with payment schemes – which Vivian requested for – all the while sharing the appetized from Vivian’s place as Dick asked Bruce if he was going to eat his portion.

“I like the BMW,” Vivian said, using the correct way of pronouncing the brand.

“So do I,” Bruce said.

“Great, first thing we agreed on. And these payment terms look good for me – doable too..”

“Why not this?” He pointed to the higher down payment. “It could lessen the load on the monthlies and the insurance.”

“What was the agreed percentage on our agreement for the down payment for the car?”

Before Bruce could answer, Dick said, “You didn’t settle for one. You just agreed that Bruce would pay for the down payment.”

Bruce smiled smugly at that. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Anything for this to end, it’s getting on my nerves and it’s getting on Alfred’s nerves. By the way, Viv, I saw that game you have in your box, can I play with that?”

“Help me out here and you can have it,” Vivian told him.

“Bribing a kid. A very nice example you’re setting here, Viv,” Bruce teased. “We’ll put in a bigger down payment, and I promise that I won’t meddle in your monthly expenses unless you ask.”

“Bruce, I know you’re not meddling. It’s just something that I can’t live with myself if — I can’t swallow –” Dick snorted which had Vivian kicking him under the table “-- the fact that everything is a hand me down.”

Bruce sighed. “I know, I just want to help you as much as I can.”

“And you have done so much for me. But I’m a big girl now, I gotta do these things on my own,” smiling, Vivian placed a kiss on his cheek. “But thank you for insisting on paying for the down payment. And… looking at it now, I think your choice for the payment scheme is more doable and gives me legroom – but don’t rub it on my face, jeez. Gloating doesn’t suit you, Wayne.”

Bruce chuckled and pressed a kiss on her temple. “I’m just glad we finally agreed on something and we can get this done and have you fully settled in at the Manor.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to throw a party for me.”

“I’m not, but I think the public is waiting for one.”

“No!”

The pizza finally came and Dick started to dig in before Bruce and Vivian’s dishes were even set on the table. And before the waiter left, Dick called for them and said, “Scotch neat, and make it a double. And drinking ginger ale for them. And for me, a chocolate milkshake. We’re celebrating, they finally finished this whole moving-in thing.”

~*~

Boxes were brought down, leaving only her duffle bag of clothes which Vivian had on her shoulder, and some books she couldn’t add to the boxes. Taking one last look around the place, she swept through each room one last time and noticed something that wasn’t there when she moved into the place. The protection spell she marked on the doors and windows, she had forgotten about those.

“All set, the movers are now taking the last of your things to the Manor, are you good?” Bruce went back inside to see her. “Vivian?”

“Yeah, I am,” Vivian wiped her hand across the mark. One moment it was there, the next it was a clean wall. The same goes to all the marks she placed in the condo. “All set, as if a witch didn’t live here at all.”

Taking the duffle bag from her, Bruce held her hand and said, “Do you feel like we’re rushing things?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts – I just wiped that thing off,” she joked.

“I’m not, but how do you feel about all this?”

“It took us two weeks for me to actually get all my things out of this place – but for the couch and the bed and the fridge, wow my tenants are lucky to have a fully furnished place…” Vivian counted the appliances she’ll be leaving, and to get her back on track, Bruce pulled her to him and kissed her nape.

“Viv,” he murmured against her skin. “Are you sure?”

“I am. One-hundred-percent,” Vivian held his arms that embraced her. “Since moving from Liverpool, this is the first major step that I made that didn’t scare the shit out of me.”

“A good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing. Let’s go, Dick’s asked us to get drive-thru for lunch.”

“He’s taking advantage of this move to eat more junk food than he should be.”

“He’s a kid, Bruce, what do you expect?” Vivian closed and locked the door of her condo as they left. She’ll be handing over the keys to the tenant that booked the place for the next six months. “This is what makes us a good team. You bring class and ass kicking to his life, and I bring normal teenager stuff and McDonald’s. It’s a good combination to raise a kid.”

“I guess you’re right,” Bruce entered the elevator. “I’ll miss this elevator, though.”

“Yeah, and I bet Creepy Norman would miss the shows we give him everytime we couldn’t wait too,” Vivian waved at the elevator camera. “Bye Norman, see you whenever I drop by to see the place!”

Exiting the building, the couple got in the silver BMW, threw the bag to the back, and Vivian got in the driver’s seat and drove away from the building and down the road heading to Wayne Manor, but first, she’ll get Dick his burger and fries.

#batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #fanfic #dc batman #batman fanfiction #batfam

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thetarttfuldickhead · 1 year ago

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As much as I love the notion of Roy as the reluctant but resolute resident Jamie Tartt Caretaker (duties include: cuddling, Special [and sometimes insane] Rules just for Jamie, loving concern disguised as shouting, and thoughtful nodding while wondering what the hell Jamie is on about) I’m growing increasingly amused by the idea of Jamie as the team’s official Roy Kent Whisperer, now that Ted’s clicked his heels three times and fucked off to Kansas.

Say Roy’s in a mysterious foul mood and running everyone ragged to the point where even the tying together of dicks starts to seem reasonable? The team turns to Jamie: “The fuck’s going on with Coach?”

Jamie shrugs and makes one of his exceedingly expressive faces. “I don’t know, I didn’t do nothing.”

Isaac’s eyeing him like he maybe doesn’t believe that. “Well, you need to talk to him. Figure out what’s going on before he fucking kills us.”

Jamie makes another face, scoffs maybe, partly because uh you think this is bad you wouldn’t survive a single one-on-one training session with him, and partly because he’s still a little contrary at times and also doesn’t like getting saddled with things. “Um, why me?” he demands. “You’re the captain.”

Isaac is unmoved. “Yeah, well, and as your captain, I’m telling you to go talk to Coach.” Off a nudge from Colin, he adds: “Please.”

“Yeah, come on, boyo,” Colin adds. “You and Roy have this whole thing, he’ll listen to you, mate.”

And that’s true, innit, and the thought of that cheers Jamie up considerably, so yeah, sure, he’ll talk to Roy, don’t worry about it, lads.

Jamie’s many and varied tactics for getting Roy to open up ranges from point blank asking what’s going on and refusing to stop making empathic faces until Roy tells him, to cunningly sharing something vulnerable about himself in the hopes that Roy will reprociate, or having Roy join him for some sort of activity designed to eventually lower Roy’s guard, or following Roy around and being obnoxiously cheerful until Roy gives in from sheer exhaustion (and also, but secretly, from being a little bit soothed by Jamie’s happy presence). The whole process usually involved Roy telling him to fuck off at least thrice and possibly the repeated slamming of doors, but Jamie’s nothing but tenacious and in the end he always gets his man. With time and Roy’s continued sessions with Dr. Sharon the need for this sort of intervention becomes rarer and rarer – but when the call comes, Jamie is ready!

(Having Jamie be the spokeperson when it come to special requests is a bit of a gamble, though, because a lot of the time Roy is actually far more likely to say no to him than to anyone else. And, of course, any concerns not tied to Roy being in a mysterious foul and/or weird mood that needs particular handling, is sorted by Isaac, who takes his duties as captain very seriously.)

#in fairness to roy #i think he’s far more likely to listen to his fellow diamond dogs now that he started therapy #and i imagine beard in particularly will keep an eye on him if things get messy #there’s keeley too of course #and rebecca can also be trusted to set him straight in times of need #but the team is not likely to go to any of them for help handling their coach #and while i adore that roy gets to have multiple sources of support #because heaven knows he needs them #i am who i am and will always be a little extra insane about roy and jamie #and all the mad things they are to one another #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #my stuff

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romanarose · 2 years ago

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Triple Frontier Masterlist

A masterlist for all Triple Frontier fics

Tumblr messed up u links so im slowly trying to fix them! anything in bold SHOULD be goo to go. if i miss anything, let me know! If you really wanna read something and cant find it searching, send and ask and ill try to find it for you

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Leather and Lace (Completed): While on a mission, Pope, Fish, Benny and Will find a girl tied up in the basement of a drug lord, a victim of trafficking. She won't hardly talk or look at them. Will she learn to trust Santi? Will he be able to help her? ♥️🖤🌶

Match Made in Heaven: Benny and Will play matchmaker with you and Santi. It works.

Full: At a fundraiser, you are all dressed up and Santi can't help himself.

Santi with a Reader on her Period: You wake up with your period unexpectedly. So unexpected, that you have bled all over your boyfriend and his bed, and freak out. Santi tries to make it better.

Gross Reality: A sorta sequel to the last period fic with Santi but this time with the gross gory details of the reality of periods.

Hello Sunshine, Won’t You Stay?: A song fic to a Bruce Springsteen song for @astroboots fantastic series, Homecoming

Honest Mistake (Co written with the wonderful @missdictatorme) : Santi accidentally forgets your birthday, bringing the delta force on one last mission to not let you find out.

If You Wanna Be Wild ft. Javier Peña: Javi and his new partner, a young Santiago Garcia straight out the military, begin to take down Lorea with the help of Candy, a charming and beautiful prostitute.

Please Don't Go?: You are going through an extreme depressive episode, and Santiago is afraid of leaving you alone.

Big Boys Don't Cry: Trans!Santi fucks you with a dildo, has a lot of feelings.

Benjamin "Benny" Miller

Just to be Your Man: You go to a bar with the express intent of hooking up with someone; something you never do. Will Benny Miller be that man?

Puzzle Pieces: You’re Toms girlfriend and honestly, he’s a dick. All the guys know it, all the guys tell him to be better, but Benny always finds a way to make it better himself.

Part one; You try to show off your finished puzzle

Part Two: Tom won’t look at your tomato’s

William "Ironhead" Miller

Temptation: Redfly’s estranged daughter comes back into his life, and this makes things difficult on Will Miller

Lucky: You are having a tough time, but Will is there for you.

He Didn't Have to Be: You and Will hit it off immediately, but being a single mom but a past, you didn't think that he'd be interested in you. You were wrong, and Will asks you on the sweetest date you could imagine.

For the Longest Time (series): Lorelei is suspicious of everyone around her, especially men. She’s jaded, but keeps running into this man and excepts something to be wrong about him… but he only ever treats her with kindness. When she really needs him, he’s there… but that leads to an unexpected turn in her life. Can she learn to trust him and the kind, loving found family he has?

Francisco "Catfish" Morales

Take Your Time (series): Taking place after Leather and Lace (but not necessary to read Leather and Lace before this), Frankie is struggling with his sobriety, and needs his friends and family to rally around him.

Partner in Crime: you have trouble orgasming, but Frankie is there to help you

Cola: Frankie is thirsty, and you’re the perfect drink

Two or More

Awakening Series Masterlist: You find you and Santiago share a mutual fantasy; being shared with his friends

End of the Innocence: Not really a Triple Fontier fic but a fic based off a Triple Frontier fic, do what you must with that. A song Fic for Watch Your Step🖤

Hungry Hearts: You, Will and Santi have some fun, Will and Santi finding a new side of themselves

Benny Miller X Frankie Morales

Boys of Summer: Told over the series of summers, we follow Benny and Frankie as they meet, fall in love, fall apart, and come back together again.

I Won’t Be Afraid Anymore: A sequel to Boys Of Summer. Benny and Frankie figure things out as promised.

Take Care of You: Frankie wraps Ben’s hands before his fight.

Meletonine: FishBen chapter of awakening but can be read seperate. Catfish and Ben finally fall into each other.

Headcanons

TF Boys with a Reader with an ED

Love Langauges: Acts of Service

Love Languages: Physical Touch

Love Languages: Words of Affirmation

Love Languages: Quality Time

Love Languages: Gift Giving

Biggest problems in relationship

Santi with Curly Haired Reader

#Triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago Garcia #Santiago Garcia reader #frankie morales #frankie morales reader #will miller #will miller reader #benjamin miller #benjamin miller reader #ben miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #franie morales x reader

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jadedxhearts · 7 months ago

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𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐩

Originally titled "pay attention to the knots" (god I was so bad at naming things???)

originally posted on June 3, 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

It wasn’t too often you’d be docked at an island, with the entire crew away from the Polar Tang. Everyone was off on their own, doing whatever they pleased on a nice day “off”. But Law had other ideas in mind for you.

Alone on the submarine, you were on the back deck with your boyfriend, watching as he showed you how to tie knots for when the sails needed to go up. You didn’t even know why he was making you learn these things, as it wasn’t your job anyway. You had other things to do on board, things much more important than tying knots all day long.

“If you don’t do it exactly as I showed you, the whole damn sail’s gonna come down,” Law was saying, watching as you struggled to repeat the actions he’d done moments ago.

“Well I’m not good at it, so I don’t know why the hell you think I should be the one tasked with this,” you tried reasoning, trying to make any sense of not only why Law wanted this, but also how to do it.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna make you take on the job,” he explained. “You just need to know how.”

“Ugh, Law…” you groaned, tossing the horribly tied rope to the floor as you gave up, crossing your arms and pouting at him. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“You’re just not getting it yet,” he sighed. “Watch me again, okay?”

You silently nodded, feeling as though you really had no other choice.

Law took your awfully tied rope from the wooden floor, undoing all of your weak knots and releasing the rope to its natural form. “You’re going to start with a basic knot,” he instructed, this being the fourth time he was going over this with you.

But you just couldn’t get it right, and you knew without a doubt you wouldn’t ever get it. So… your mind went elsewhere, Law’s words going in one ear and right out the other. At least his voice was soothing to hear…

But that soothing voice just made you sleepy, if anything. You hadn’t slept much the previous night, and you’d planned on sleeping in, up until Law forced you out of your shared bed so he could show you how to tie knots for sailing. You lazily watched as his tattooed hands formed the knots, feeling yourself grow drowsy as he lulled you to sleep…

“Y/n-ya! You’re not paying attention again,” he snapped, tossing the rope aside. “Guess I’ve gotta do something else to get it, huh?”

You jumped in your seat on a barrel as his words woke you up, shaking your head as though that would get rid of your sleepiness. “I’m sorry! I’m just so sleepy, Law. You know I couldn’t sleep last night,” you whined, pleading with him to not do whatever it was he had in mind.

“Too late to beg for forgiveness now,” he said with the rolling of his gray eyes. “Cross your arms behind your back.”

“What?!” You shrieked, staring at your lover with wide eyes. “Why?!”

“Just do it,” he argued, untying the rope once again.

With a loud huff, you obliged, folding your arms behind your back. “You’re gonna tie me up, aren’t you? Law, you’re such a dick.”

“Mhm. You love it, y/n-ya. Don’t even lie,” he purred in your ear as he started looping the rope around your arms.

“Love what? Your dick or you acting like one? Cause I’m getting real sick of at least one of them.”

“Both,” he answered with a smug look on his face. “You love both. Now turn around.”

You did as Law said, turning to face him as the rope wrapped around to your front, being looped around your body just above your breasts. After that was secure, Law brought out another rope and looped it around the center of the old one, right over where your breasts met in the center. He pulled it down between them, separating the two strands within the rope when he reached the bottom of your mounds. Each strand went under them, being pulled around to your back, and then looped back to the front. Law tied the ends together along with the original rope in a knot, causing it to press into your skin and push your breasts together, squishing them.

He then did intricate patterns down your stomach, doing a similar thing to your ass as he did to your breasts. He’d removed your shorts just before that, though, leaving you in only panties and a tank top. The rope pushed against your clothed pussy, and with every movement, the rough fabric of the rope rubbed into your clit.

Lastly, Law folded your legs and tied your ankles to your thighs, leaving you in somewhat of a kneeling position. You were completely tied up all by his doing, and certainly wide awake now. Every movement Law made was closely watched by you, unlike earlier.

“Now do I have your attention?” He asked, watching you squirm against the rope on the floor. “So pathetic,” he added, lifting his foot to place it against your cunt, pushing it against you.

“What was the point of this?!” You snapped, glaring up at Law. “How am I supposed to learn anything like this?”

“Maybe you won’t learn how to tie knots, but you will learn a lesson,” Law answered you, chuckling. He then pulled his foot away from you, leaving you whimpering and crying from the loss of friction against your cunt. You hadn’t even noticed how good it felt.

“Wh-what does that mean?” You managed to say, starting to stumble over your words.

Law simply hummed, before turning on his heel and walking away from you.

“Law…?”

He ignored you.

“Law?! You’re not gonna leave me like this, are you?!”

Still, nothing.

“Law!!!”

#law x reader #law x reader smut

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thesandsofelsweyr · 2 years ago

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HOLLOWED OUT

《 READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

When Jason saw that photo of Batman and his new Robin, the thin cord of hope holding him together had snapped and he had broken into a million pieces. No one was coming for him. Not one single person on the planet cared whether he lived or died, or how much he suffered, or how loud he screamed. No one except the Clown. He was Joker’s now, and he would say or do anything to get a reprieve from the torment and the pain, even if it meant letting himself be reduced to something less than human.

《RATING》 🔞 Mature 《WORDS》 15,609 《CHAPTERS》 6/6

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Original Male Character(s), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Dick Grayson (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned), Catherine Todd (mentioned), Willis Todd (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Whump, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

《WARNINGS》 Dehumanization, Bathing/Washing, Master/Pet, Collars, Ownership, Brainwashing, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Touching, Torture, Mindfuck, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Loathing, Past Child Abuse, Daddy Issues, Forced Nudity, Swearing

《SERIES》 Part 4 of My Arkhamverse, Part 4 of Ruined

《NOTES》

This fic is my pride & joy! It was the first thing I published after a 5+ year hiatus, and the longest story I've ever written by far!

This fic is also dark so be aware of the tags (especially the DD:DNE tag)

My Arkhamverse canon is a mix of game canon and Arkham Knight: Genesis canon. I pick and choose what I like best 😉

If you enjoy the read please consider kudosing, commenting, and reblogging ❤️

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

Jason let his heavy head sag between his shoulders as he was dragged down the long hallway. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. The strain on his upper body reignited dull pain in his shoulders, pain that still lingered from the last time he was strung up like a slab of raw meat. The usual two orderlies, who Joker called “Left” and “Right” to amuse himself and confuse the hell out of everyone else, each grasped a bone-thin arm, showing no more concern for him than they would have for a sack of dirt. He didn’t have the strength to fight the men even if he wanted to, which he did not. Fighting was a punishable offense—he’d learned that long ago—and he would do anything to avoid a punishment. Yeah, the Clown still abused him whenever he felt like it, but punishment was a different experience entirely, the kind that lasted for hours and left him wishing for death. Just the thought of the word alone made him want to curl up and die.

We passed the torture chamber already, he reassured himself, trying not to let the fear take over and start pleading for mercy like the coward he was. They’re taking me somewhere else, someplace new.

For Jason it was a torture chamber, but really it was another abandoned office in this buried wing of Arkham Asylum where Joker kept all the toys he used to make him squeal. He was almost always punished in that room: tied to a chair, dangling from a meat hook, or, especially when guests paid him a visit, left free to crawl into a corner and contemplate how helpless he was even without any restraints.

He only punishes me when I’m bad…

He wracked his weary mind for anything he might have done to piss the Clown off lately. Not that the Clown needed to be pissed off to make him regret ever putting on that red suit. Whacking him with a crowbar was probably part of the psycho’s self-care routine. But a punishable offense? He couldn’t think of anything. Joker was usually fair when it came to punishing him. He only hurts me like that when I deserve it, and he had been on his very best behavior. At least he hoped he had. He was so exhausted it was hard to keep track of what he had or hadn’t done.

It seemed as if a lot of time had passed since his last punishment, but he had no real concept of time in this pit. Well, not since the first six months of his imprisonment, back when he thought someone might actually give a damn that he was missing. He’d tried to keep track of the days then, but after Joker showed him that photo he decided there was no point anymore.

In those early days—back when he was nothing but bad—he would fight back. He broke the wrist of one of the guest torturers, bit a guard’s ear off, even knocked a tooth out of the Clown’s stupid grin. He also tried to escape at least once a month. The guards or orderlies or the Clown himself (armed with that goddamned crowbar) would drag him back and beat him within an inch of his life. But as soon as he could stand up again he was running—or limping more likely—toward that salvation that was a concrete staircase leading up to a makeshift trap door leading out to freedom. Even then Joker made sure his ankle stayed broken, but he had way more tolerance for pain when he thought Batman was coming to beat the shit out of the Clown and his goons and take him home. Hope will do that to you.

He was a good boy now though, as docile as a whipped dog—relentless suffering for nearly a year of his life made certain of that. Joker taught him that it was easier to just submit, to obey; that life was better as a broken boy than it was as a bad boy. He no longer wished to escape. Where would he go? He had no home, no one waiting for him. At least here in this dungeon someone actually cared about him, in his sick, twisted, fucked-up sort of way. And then there was the warning of what would happen to him if he ever tried to run again. Oh God… Fear coiled like a snake around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter as he struggled to push the memory of that terrible threat away, to push back the panic that crept in. I learned my lesson, he reminded himself as he fought for a breath. That will only happen to me if I disobey…

His mind was mercifully wrenched back to the present when the orderlies suddenly turned, pulling his limp body into an unfamiliar room and dropping him to the cold tile floor. His heart started to slow as the pain in his shoulders receded and he took in his new surroundings. The small, musty room looked like it might have been a break room or a kitchen. There was a sink, a fridge, a microwave, an empty water cooler, some cabinets—all blanketed in a thin layer of dust. In the center of the room sat a square table with four metal chairs, and beside it stood the Clown. His heart sank. Joker was grinning at him as ever, his feverish green eyes glittering with excitement for whatever sadistic cruelties he was about to dish out. The sight of the man made him want to puke.

But he couldn’t puke right now, not when Joker expected him in position. With a soft groan he slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, ignoring the protests from cracked bones and torn muscles. His bruised knees ached from crawling on the hard floor for the past weeks (months? years??). Since he’d been stripped of his armor Joker only allowed him to crawl; never walk, never stand. He kept his head bowed low while he waited for a command to obey.

The uneasy silence was soon filled by the sound of a metal chair scraping against the tile as it was pulled from beneath the table. He shivered as all-too-familiar dread and despair settled over him. It was about to start again.

“Come. Sit,” Joker said in a lilting voice that suggested this was a friendly request, but Jason knew better.

Without hesitation he crawled over to where Joker was standing with his hands resting on the chair back. He gripped the chair and used it as leverage to pull his trembling, broken body off the floor. Gingerly, he slid into the chair, and winced as his ass and thighs—still bruised from the wooden paddle—came in contact with the hard plastic seat. My body still hasn’t recovered from my last punishment, he thought miserably. It was hard for him to believe that this same body was running around Gotham, brawling with its colorful lineup of thugs only months ago. Now he could barely stand on his own, much less run. Even the slightest of movements awakened some awful pain from a previous beating. He was only 16 yet he felt like he was 60.

16… He was only weeks away from getting his license when he fell into this shithole. Two more years and he would’ve had his high school diploma, maybe even sooner. I wanted to go to college. I was gonna try for an Ivy. A ‘fuck you’ to Willis for giving him hell for opening a book more than once in his life. I’ll never read another book. That realization was a particularly brutal gut-punch. Books were always his escape, from his shitty home life when his sperm donor was still breathing, or when he was feeling like he, a corner boy from Crime Alley, had no business living in a billionaire’s mansion. He remembered when he first arrived at that billionaire’s mansion how excited he was when he saw the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves Alfred built for him in his new bedroom, and the hundreds of books that Bruce had already filled them with. He also remembered the pack of Marlboros he had stashed behind his (Bruce’s) first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice. This hell would be more bearable with a paperback and a cigarette. He would never experience either of those things again though. He would never see his bedroom again… or Alfred… or Bruce. He bit back tears. Willis was probably laughing his ass off in hell right now. He always said I was a loser, that I’d never amount to anything. Looks like the fuckhead was right in the end.

Read the rest on AO3→

#sands writes #my arkhamverse #series: ruined #fic: hollowed out #jason todd #joker #robin #arkham asylum #arkham knight #arkhamverse #whump #angst #collars #dead dove: do not eat #jason todd whump #jason todd angst #jason todd fanfiction #dcu

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kayslibrary · 1 year ago

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~Growing pains~

George Weasley x nonbinary reader

A/N: Hey, people of the internet! It tis i!! Back with some more George Weasley fanfiction. It's a damn shame there's little to none of it on Tumblr, but it’s whatever. I Hope you like Angst with a side of fluff because that’s what's on the menu. I hope you enjoy My doodles!!! And if you want a specific trope, don’t hesitate to request one! I’ll try my best to get it out as fast as possible. Anyway, ENJOY!!!

Warnings~ the readers are non-binary with not much-added description, so be wild with your mind, cussing; yes, we use potty mouth around these parts. I think that's about it. Please let me know if I missed anything!!

Synopsis

You and George were at his home for the holidays when some of Fred’s friends started to chat you up. One thing led to another, and you were in a room with the group while they were shit-talking about your boyfriend. It all went down when he found out during dinner.

It was winter break when Mrs. Weasley gave Fred the ok to bring people over.

“Oi Y/N,” Fred calls from his room. “Yes?” you say as you lean against the door frame. “I have some friends I want you to meet; Y/N meet Marlon, Cyrus, Lorenzo, and Kaullm '' he says as he goes down the line, introducing them one by one, “nice to meet you all,” You wave awkwardly. “Come in; we’re not gonna bite..unless you want us to,” Kallum jokes. “So tell me, Y/N, you have a partner by chance?” Lorenzo asks curiously. “Stop jacking with her. She’s spoken for.” Fred sighs. “By who…you?” Marlon adds, scooting a bit closer to Fred. “No..never Fred,” you joke. “George?” Marlon guesses. “Yup,” you say plainly. “Aw, Fred, you dick, how could you pass this absolute hottie to that wet blanket.” Cyrus jokes as the rest of them laugh. “Don’t like her that way,” Fred says playfully. “George is a one-off to you, Fred. A fuckin prude.” Marlon seethes as you stand up. “What's wrong, Y/N” Fred asks. “Nothing. Just tired. See you later, Fred,” you say silently as you go to the room that you share with Ginny. “Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?” she asks as you face plant on your bed. “Nothing,” you silence as you try to take a nap.

Dinner came faster than you expected, “that's right everyone tuck in!” Molly chimes as she passes around a bowl of soup. “So George, tell me..” Marlon. “How is Y/N..she you know…” he trails off “how i am is none of your concern marlon..drop it” you spit. “Oi weasel got your partner speaking for you? Can’t speak up? You’re such a deadbeat downer.” Kallum seethes playfully as the whole table laughs. “Stop.” George Says sternly as he stands up and walks away “george…fuck you guys” you say as you walk after him, you finally make it to his room to see him on his bed reading a book. “George…” you trail off walking into his room “are you embarrassed of me Y/N?” he asks simply, “what? No” you say “Y/N…i-im sorry but- ""don’t you dare finish that sentence” you say tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “You’re too good for me Y/N don't you see? We aren't good for eachother.” he explains walking over to you. “George. Listen to me, we are made for one another. Dont let those ass holes tell you ANY different” you say trying to reason with him. “I want us to be together George.” you Cried holding his face. “Don’t leave me.” he begged silently, his voice cracking. “I won't, I promise.” you say as you kissed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Apologize to my brother.” Fred commands “we’re sorry.” the group of boys say in unison. “I couldn't quite hear yall…George could you hear them?” you ask as he shakes his head no, “right Apologize. CORRECTLY” you tell them sternly “we’re sorry george.” they breathe “right thank you.” Fred says “now we’re leaving” the group of boys say as they walk out the house leaving Y/N and George there. “You really didn’t have to make them say sorry.” George states as you both sit on the couch, “yes i did george. I needed them to know that if it was to happen again they would've gotten a lot worse than a few pathetic sorrys” you smile as he kisses your forehead “thank you nonetheless my love” George replied “anytime my dear.” you smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Welp that was sum else. I feel like I can't really write angst too well when I'm sad. I have to do it when I'm in one of my moods. ANYWAYS hope you enjoyed this one i really have to get back on my george grind. Remember my inbox is Always open and my requests are open as well so don't be shy, request something and it’ll be on my page in a timely manner.

Enjoy your day, night etc etc My doodles :)

P.S~ I SAID NO WEIRD SHIT IN MY INBOX YOU LITTLE SHITS STOP SENDING ME PORNO ADS PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey smut #angst #fluff #happy ending #bane of my existence #pain in my ass #fuck jkr #i dont support jkr #Harry Potter #hogwarts #wizarding world

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zepskies · 8 months ago

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Aw thank you so much, Wayne! I'm very excited to see what you thought...

One thing I absolutely adore about Firefighter AUs is that the firehouse is always a second (or even first) home and they are all a big family. And you captured that whole flair so perfectly in the way they all joke with each other. I laughed out loud several times during this chapter! ❤️‍🔥

That's exactly what I was trying to capture here, thank you!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I drew heavily from my love of Chicago Fire and other Dick Wolf procedurals (i.e. Law & Order, Chicago Med, etc.) to create the atmosphere here. I'm also so glad you enjoyed the lighter moments. Sometimes I wonder if things I think are funny will be funny to anyone else. 😂😂

First of, the whole “soil water” and tea discussion was so random and so amazing! Especially, Benny’s “that ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son” got me 😂

Lmfaoooo okay I love that you shouted this out, because this came from a convo I had with my dad about coffee and the shittiness of Folgers. As a Cuban/mixed Latina, I fucking LOVE coffee (but I love tea as well). ☕

And then, as expected, poor Y/N walks in with the best intentions and it’s super awkward with everyone staring and listening in. And boy, she really does love to bake! I figured she go simple with chocolate chip cookies, considering she has a demanding job, too, ya know? But girlfriend went aaaaall out. She’s a true Girl Scout 👀👏

Oooh this was intentional -- you'll see why she's such an intense baker. (And it was awk as hell, wasn't it? lol She did her best to push through.)

“Call me Dean, baby girl” – I gasped and snorted 🤣 Meg’s my favorite so far. Loved the whole teasing! Of course they’d do that lol

LOL Meg was so fun to play with in this story. It was my first time really writing her, but I just love her vibe. (Though you might not like her so much in a future chapter coming up...)

And I must have watched too much This Is Us because I read Gordon’s “introduce her to a brother” in full Randall nerd voice instead of creepy Gordon voice 😂

Ooooh I still need to see This Is Us, but I've heard it's fantastic!! Though you might have mixed feelings about Gordon in this story. 😅

And oh my God! There is indeed MURDER! YAY! I’m legit so excited about this. I love a good murder mystery. God knows I watch too many true crime docs and cop shows 😆 Also love that John is a detective and Cas is his partner. What an odd pairing that surely leads to a lot of fun interactions 👏 Also love how you tied the murders in with canon! So clever! Now watch me guess who the murderer is for the next fifteen parts like a game of Clue 🔍🤓

Girl SAME. I grew up on L&O and other procedurals. It's part of the reason I couldn't not make Sam an ADA in this story.

And ikr, John and Cas are an odd pairing, but it was an idea that just sort of clicked in my mind, as well as trying to tie in some canon storyline into the murder mystery to provide a main drive for John. Thank you! Lol ah-la Clue, all I'll say is, it might not be who you expect...

The sheer anger I felt when that “subhuman Neanderthal” opened his trash can of a mouth… My whole body tensed! Can we please murder him? Please, please, please! God, I hope that ape becomes the next victim of our serial killer 🔪💀

LOL I don't blame you for wanting to throw feces at Nick. He's worse than pond scum. 🤢🤮 And unfortunately, he's gonna be around for a while as a main antagonist. But you'll eventually see what his ultimate fate is...

But then came thankfully my second favorite part of this chapter, which was some good ol’ Winchester brothers bickering and some more teasing of Dean. Again, Benny killed me with his “Clap” comment omfg 🤣🤣🤣 What the hell, Dean? Carpet burn?! Get your shit together, man 😂

Lmfaoo I'm so glad you enjoyed that scene -- it was probably my favorite to write, besides Dean meeting her again at the firehouse. And oh, Dean is ridiculous for sure. He's been a special brand of "hit and run" guy up until now, though you'll also see how he tries to do better going forward. 😂😂

Though totally agree, hitting on someone in front of Jo isn't classy. He's honestly so lucky the reader has no idea he used to date her. 🙄 Fucking men indeed. Thought she really has no idea what she's getting into with Dean, or even he with her. 😂 It's gonna be a bit of a roller coaster with these two.

Again, thank you so much for your lovely review of this chapter!! I'm so excited for you to see what's coming up! 💕💕

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor.

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile.

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time).

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea.

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up.

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.”

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable.

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth.

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful.

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out.

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed.

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense.

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him.

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #smoke eater feedback #Lieutenant Winchester

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years ago

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Breeding Bitch

Yandere dog-man x Gender neutral reader (CW: Violent/painful noncon, gender neutral reader, non-human genitals, knotting, breeding, musk, piss marking, biting, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 2.3k (This is a lot more graphic than my normal content, but I talked to the requester privately and they specifically wanted a more violent noncon scene, I know that is not for everyone, so I just wanted to be clear on what this fic has.)

You had lived on the Space Station Gamma-3 for all of your adult life, you loved your life there. It was absolutely colossal and served as the most important intergalactic space terminal in existence. It offered every possible service a space traveler could possibly need or want. The obvious ones were fuel, food, and drinks, but it also boasted several resorts, cheaper hotels, restaurants serving food originating from many of the different species in the galaxy, and an entire market where traders could peddle various goods. You worked as a bartender at one of the many establishments. You enjoyed meeting new people, hearing their stories, learning tidbits about different cultures, some of which you had never even heard about before, and occasionally getting dicked down by an interesting traveler with an interesting alien schlong. That’s how you had met Fynn, a humanoid canid type alien. He looked mostly human, but instead of typical human ears he had cute triangular dog ears that flopped over at the tips slightly growing from the top of his head. He also had a furry blonde tail that matched the color of his curly mop of hair and stood well over 7 feet tall. Fynn was staying aboard the station for a few months from outside The Milky Way. He had felt like traveling a little bit and this was his last stop before he took his small ship and headed back home. The first couple of weeks that he was on the station you kept seeing him pop up all around you and show up at the bar that you worked at, especially during the slower hours. It started to seem like you couldn’t go anywhere without almost literally bumping into him. Finally he struck up a conversation, though he was sweating nervously. Over the course of the next few days you got to know him fairly well, and you found his awkward attempts at flirting to be quite charming. Eventually he built up enough courage to just outright ask if you were looking to mate. He was very sweet towards you and you found his eager but shy attitude endearing, not to mention he was the definition of attractive. Those curly blonde locks, beautiful verdant eyes, tanned skin, cute canine features, and he was quite tall and muscular. Who wouldn’t want to hookup with that? The sex was hot and a bit sloppy, once again he was very eager and was determined to please you above all else. He was also careful not to let his dog-like dick knot up inside you as that probably would have hurt and tied you two together for a bit according to him. Even without the knot his cock bulged out your stomach so much that you could see the outline of it when he thrust forward. It left you unable to walk for a good hour or two so you just lay on top of him with your head nuzzled into his neck. All in all it was a pretty fun one night stand. You had thought. After all was said and done he kept coming back to your room wanting more and you had to think of excuses to shoo him away, he began popping up even more frequently than he had previously. You constantly felt as though you were being followed, even when you could find no one else around. When he showed up at your job he constantly asked when he could see you again, always wagging his tail excitedly when he talked to you. You figured he just was not going to take the hint so you laid it out for him as clearly as possible, it was fun and you liked him, but it was just a one time thing. He seemed more than a bit confused by that. “B-but… we mated… that means you’re my mate…” His tail and ears both drooped making for quite a sad sight. Your heart twinged a bit, he was just a bit mixed up on how humans worked, you would have to explain to him. “For humans sometimes sex is just sex, I’m sorry, I did not mean to give you the wrong impression.” Fynn nodded as if he understood and slowly walked away, his heart broken. He had found such a nice human, one that smelled lovely and was so small and sweet to him, surely they had to be his partner. It just made no sense to him. Then he remembered that humans sometimes do a thing called “playing hard to get” so he just had to court you more and then really make you see he was a good strong mate to have, it was so obvious that’s what you wanted. His tail wagged with this new realization. Silly humans with their odd courting ways, but if you wanted to play hard to get he would respect your desires. That is when things really got out of hand for you. One night you came into your quarters after a day of hard work to discover that someone had somehow gotten in and covered every inch of your bed with cute plushies. And another time you went to work to find several bouquets of your favorite flowers waiting for you. But the last straw came when you arrived home one night to find that someone had seemingly urinated on the sides of your door. You decided you had had enough, clearly this dog brain was not getting the memo and did not understand the casual nature of sex for some humans. You knew just the perfect way to teach him a little lesson. When you were at the bar the next night, when there were only a few customers and you were SURE Fynn was watching you you put your plan into motion. There was a big brawny Elreldian bull man named Eldum that had been showing up regularly after tending to his market stall everyday at this time for the past few weeks and you had noticed him checking you out and both flirted a bit with one another. You decided to flirt a bit more loudly and be a bit more handsy as well right as Fynn was watching. You laughed at all the Eldum’s jokes, put your hands on his muscular arms, and exaggerated your fascination with his horns. When Fynn went to do his little nightly ritual of watching you from across the bar he entered to find your hands on an Elreldian male. You chanced a quick look over in his direction to see his face in a snarl and you are pretty sure you heard a low growl as he stormed out. Mission accomplished. Fynn was hurt and confused now more than ever. What was his mate doing all over that other man? You mated with him, you were his mate, and he would not have you just throwing yourself at someone like that. Enough of playing this hard to get game he could no longer take chances. He was going to breed and mark you in every way possible until there was all of zero chance that you, or anyone else, could doubt that you belonged to him. The dog man broke into your room yet again, he found that it was so easy to slip in, if some part of you truly did not want to be his then why did you make it so easy for him to get into your home? Fynn waited patiently for you to get off work, silently laying under your bed as he sniffed a pair of your underwear. The scent drove him wild and only spurred him on to do what he had come here to do. He was tempted to attend to his hard member, but he wanted to save each and every drop of his potent musky seed to bury into you. When you entered your home and then your room you found nothing amiss and you had not seen hide nor hair of Fynn since you made sure he caught you flirting so heavily with Eldum. You were convinced that your plan had gone off without a hitch. But there was a hitch, and it waited until you were sound asleep snoring before creeping out from under your bed and hovering over you to appreciate your sleeping form before grabbing you roughly, stuffing your mouth with a gag before you could scream, and ripping your clothes off you. It had all happened so fast, you tried to cry out for someone but your voice was muffled by Fynn’s musk drenched underwear. You tried struggling, but you found that you could not move at all with the dog man’s strong arms pinning you. When you saw his angry, red, fully erect cock you knew what was about to happen. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up pleadingly, it was obvious even through the gag that you were trying to beg to be let go. “Now, why would I let my little bitch go just so some other man can come sniffing around what’s mine?? I am gonna breed you, give you all my seed, make every atom reek of me!” Even in the low light you could see the crazed look in his formerly sweet eyes. True to his word he straddled your chest and the first thing he did was rub his huge nuts all over your face until you were covered in his smell, and the second thing he did was begin pissing all over your head and hair, soaking you in his smelly urine. You tried to move your head out of the way but it was pointless. Fynn sniffed the air. “Mm, perfect, now everyone will know you’re my fucking property. Just have to mark your insides~” Your renewed muffled sobs and struggles did nothing to dissuade him. He easily flipped you over and started fingering your hole a bit, but that was the only preparation he offered before lining up his warm moist canine prick with your hole and jamming in all at once. Even the gag could not fully muffle the shriek you let out as his massive cock invaded you so abruptly. Unfortunately for you the room was completely soundproof anyway. Once more his cock was bulging out your stomach, this time with excruciating pain, but he did not start thrusting into you yet, he decided that your warm insides were a really nice place to finish up emptying his bladder. Your stomach began swelling not just with the outline of his huge cock but with the piss he was emptying into you to mark your deepest most intimate place as his property and his alone. You were sobbing and shaking from the pain of it all, and then he began thrusting. He held your hips painfully tight, leaving bruises where his fingers had been as he began going back and forth into your poor abused hole. The sex was not pleasurable for you and it did not become pleasurable for you, but after a while your insides did mercifully adjust to his size and the pain somewhat diminished. He gave no concern to your comfort at all, in stark contrast to how he had been when he fucked you before. After all, he was not making love this time, he was claiming property. Fynn plowed into you relentlessly as you continued crying silently, you could feel his large knot brushing against your insides as he railed you. He bit your neck and growled fiercely to keep you submissive and still as he ramped up the pace, he did not need to though, you had gone limp, resigned to be his cumdump after all your struggles had proven so pathetically useless. Finally he came in you with considerable force, swelling your belly painfully with even more fluid. He draped his body over yours, being careful not to put his wait on you, and licked your neck and cheek happily as his tail began to wag. His demeanor instantly shifted back to his previous sweetness. “There we go, now you’re my sweet breeding bitch and you can’t deny it! No more playing hard to get okay? You’re my mate and I got you fair and square!” He went back to licking you happily and nuzzling into your neck as he waited for his knot to go down. When it finally did he slowly slid his prick out of you making you wince in pain. The mixture of cum and piss poured out all over the place. You were crying, in pain, and smelled awful. You just wanted it to end. “I am sorry I was so rough with you, but I had to prove to you that you were mine and keep other guys away from my territory!” He picked you up and took you to the tub where he gently placed you in some water and cleaned off your lower half, but he did not touch your face, he still wanted his scent mark on you. Fynn kept the gag in, though it would not have mattered at this point anyway, even if the walls were not soundproof you did not have the strength left to scream anyway, you were utterly broken and defeated. You flinched as he carefully cleaned your hole, but it was raw and bleeding a bit from the rough treatment it had been made to endure. Once you were clean from the neck down Fynn took you and dressed you and put his clothes back on as well, except for the salty underwear that still gagged your mouth. It was the dead of night and he knew absolutely no one would be up and moving around between here and his ship so he picked you up and hauled you back to it. Fynn sat you down next to him and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to his side. He couldn’t wait to show everyone back home his beloved little breeding bitch.

#request #yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exophilia #yandere exo #male yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere male #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere dog man #dog man #yandere alien #My OCs #My OC Fynn

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mauvecherie-writes · 2 years ago

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Daddy’s Got You.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Black f!reader

summary: The only thing that Lewis wants to do is be wrapped up in your warmth after the race.

warning: 18+ NSFW, extremely explicit smut. daddy kink, slight praise kink, oral, bondage, teasing, dirty talk. RPF, PWP. [not edited]

word count: 1.1K

Despite the absolute shit start to the weekend, Lewis was feeling good, really good. The two of you immediately flew out of Austria with Toto and his family along with Valterri and his personal crew. It was a shame really, Lewis wanted you all to himself. He wanted to feel your warmth wrapped around him and keep drawing him in as your walls dragged along his cock.

Everyone on that plane thought that the two of you were just cuddled beneath the blanket, stuck in a lovers cocoon but none of them really knew what he was doing to you. His fingers teased you as his breath tickled the skin of your neck.

“I can’t wait til we get back home and I just fuck you full of me. Would you like that baby?”

You moaned softly, turning your body into his. Yeah he knew he had you. Getting to the hotel that you had chosen to reside for the night, just the two of you, starting his two week summer break together.

What other way was better than starting the holiday than fisting his dick as you knelt before him. Your hands are tied behind you as you look up at him with the widest brown eyes, eager to please him. Precum slathered all over the tip as he continued jacking himself off. The intensity of his stare had you whining in your position, rubbing your thighs together, creating some friction to ease the ache in your cunt.

“You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader.” He praised. “I always hear your voice cheering me on the radio going all because of me. But right now, I want to make your voice go hoarse because my dick is down your throat.” A pleasing sound left you as you scooted closer to him, his free hand coming into your head, angling your head a little bit upward.

Despite all the control he had at that moment, his heart still raced with anticipation at the feeling of your tongue against his dick before you moved to his balls. You pulled them into your wet, warm mouth and suckled them gently. You would have done more if it wasn’t for the restriction of your hands but nonetheless, Lewis basked in the pleasure of how good it felt to be in your mouth.

Letting go of his balls, you gasped softly before taking his dick into your mouth and sucked on him earnestly. You kept your tongue tight against his dick as you moved your head up and down and it was so damn alluring that Lewis knew that if he didn’t pull your mouth away from him, he was going to cum.

Then you took him deep into your throat, gagging on him and the sound shouldn’t be sexy but coming from you it was. Lewis groaned from deep within his chest as he felt you struggle but you were so committed and it made him throb.

He quickly pulled you away from him, whimpered your teary eyes stared back at him. “Daddy I wanted you to fuck my throat. You deserve it, you always do.”

“Fuck baby, keep talking like that and I just might.” He licked his lips as he placed both hands on your face and cupped your cheeks. You grinned, a look of joy gleaming at him as he pulled you up to your feet.

“You know I would love to fuck that filthy mouth of yours.” He gagged you with his fingers as he nibbled on your chin before he kissed you roughly. The musk of himself that tainted your lips like the tattoos in his skin. You were his and his alone - and you were proud of that. “But I need to inside of your pussy. Now.”

You squealed as he positioned you on the bed just the way he wanted you. You turned your head as he got on his knees behind your parted legs and arched back. Every inch of you was beautiful, the sway of your ass was hypnotic.

“Fuck.” Lewis whispered as he fixated on your glistening pussy. He rubbed his tip against your opening, tapping on your clit again and again just to hear you moan, softly pleading for him.

“Lewis, daddy — please. I need you.”

“Daddy’s got you baby.” He sunk into you and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He could hear your gasp as he pushed himself deeper into you. You were hot, slick and wrapped around him tightly like a latex glove. This was a feeling that Lewis would never get over.

You looked at him as you willed your body to take his thrusts and he loved watching the way you reacted to him. The way your eyes widened with desire, the pout of your lips as your moans left you and the way your brows slightly creased as if you wanted to close your eyes but couldn’t. Because just like him, you wanted to see it all.

Your body collapsed onto the bed beneath you as he quickly found rhythm; long and lengthy strokes that had you trying to squirm away as the curved tip of his cock brushed your g-spot. Your cries became louder and louder which caused Lewis to chuckle.

Using the bonds that were tying your hands together, he pulled you to his chest and wrapped his hand around your throat. Your arms were trapped between your back and his torso as his thrusts hit harder and harder.

“You like that sweet girl?” He asked as his other hand came to your clit and began rubbing on it. You were soaking his fingers so much, they kept sliding off but it just made him fuck you harder.

“I need to hear you tell sweet girl. You love the way I’m fucking you? You want more baby?”

You couldn’t stop moaning, you couldn’t answer him, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Harder? Hmm? S’that what you want baby?” He put more force into his thrusts, leaving you gasping for air - your words stuck in your throat as you tried to answer him.

“Don’t worry baby, Daddy’s got you.”

Time became to blur into a pool of pleasure, a symphony of slapping skin, moans, and groans as Lewis raced towards an orgasm he feared would take the both of you out. He slowed down when he felt your legs begin to shake and his stomach began tightening. Your orgasm was within reach and the intensity of it was inevitable.

The tremors held your body, screaming as you came. He used that to finally let out the pent up energy from the weekend fill up. Both of his hands dropped to your stomach and held you as you shook. Your heavy panting echoed in the room before you began to giggle at the feel of his lips along your shoulder blade.

“Thank you Daddy.” You mumbled softly as you sagged into him.

“Don’t thank me yet baby, we’re not finished.”

——————————————

@queenshikongo3 @lostinlewis @lewisinlace @melodicheauxxo @chaneajoyyy @olyvoyl @felicity-x0 @9daykrisr @hellomadamebutterfly @qveenmelanink @sadthotsonlylove @lewissmile @kindan3rdy951 @otomesoulsista @dhlfastestlap @playgurlxoxo @uzumaki-rebellion

#mauvecherie writes #daddy’s got you fic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton smut #black reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton one shot #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton

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peppermint-monster · 3 years ago

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Mezo Shoji x Perv. Chubby Reader!

Warnings: unprotected sex, bondage, dirty talk, Pet names (Princess/Baby/Goodgirl), size kink…?, DDLG (At the very end), Sub!Shoji (for the most part), mention the use of toys, mentions Oral (male receiving), Babytrapping-ish. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊

Please be mindful that the photos are not mines, but the making of the collage is.

MINORS DNI!!! 🔞🙅🏻‍♀️If you’re not comfortable with this, please ignore!

Could we talk about Mezo Shoji with a perv!ChubbyReader. Before they were together she seemed like a normal being, if anything she was a shy, timid girl, which was ok with him since he is a simple guy. However, something seemed to happen when they began dating. They'd been with each other for almost three and a half years, and while time seemed to pass, Shoji happened to be aware of her antics.

For starters, it was intimate and passionate with love when they first did it, but the more they had sex, the more he appeared to notice how adventurous she'd gotten. Asking ever so shyly if Shoji could take her in different positions: Doggy style, cowgirl, face-off, leapfrog, ballet dancer, and so many more that he never knew about.

Where does she find these lewd positions?

Even during class transitions or over lunch, she would tease him with light touches on his chest and arms that he barely felt, but if no one was looking, she would grope his man boobies till his nipples were hard and there was a bulge in his pants. Even bending down right in front of him to “pick up” something that she dropped, when in reality it’s to actually grind against his already semi-hard cock. He is thankful for his quirk since it allows him to hide the sinful scene that is taking place right next to his peers.

And if she spots him a few steps behind her as she climbs the stairs, she would slide her skirt up to show her panty-covered ass before carrying on with her day while giggling at his flustered expression as he almost dropped the boxes he was assigned to transport somewhere.

Then she shyly asked if she could try new things on him, to which he applauded, allowing her to milk him while bound to a chair, naked with nipple clips and a cock ring. He knows he has the strength to break these ropes she tied him with, yet there's something about witnessing his shy princess blossoming into this confident, bold, and sexy woman that makes him play the helpless role. Despite the fact that all he wanted to do was break these restraints and take her on the spot.

Yet here they are now, Shoji being palmed by his pervert girlfriend in their empty classroom to “study”, asking him to reteach her the same problem that he showed her for the tenth time while tracing the outline of his already semi-hard cock not once breaking character while he was trembling and stumbling over his words. Now there was no lie this man had a nice juicy thick cock that obviously need its nice and tight warm cunt in, so she stopped their little charade and move the desk that was in front of them forward making him jolt before unbuckled his pants and sliding them down his meaty thighs, freeing his cock, that stood tall for her. The reader would slip her panties off while licking her lips from seeing the flushed shade of red of a tip that leaked helplessly from only a few seconds of neglect. He tried to protest saying how someone could have forgotten something and would come back, or one of the teachers walking by. But that didn’t stop or scare her, her mind too fogged up on the thought of her dick. She remembers when she wrapped Shoji up in bondages, how she would sometimes wrap a cute ribbon around the base of his cock while sucking him off to then finish it off with a few lipstick kisses peppered all around his lower abdomen and length that anyone could see if he was to lift his arms and his shirt was to rise.

Anyways… back to their “study session”. I think Shoji would manhandle her like crazy 😆🤤 But not in any harm’s way; simply taking charge of the situation, taking hold of her hips, and thrusting her down on his cock with how sexually frustrated they both knew he'd be with her teasing. To Shoji, she essentially becomes a human fleshlight. Clinging to his shoulder, she was in bliss from the sensation and the ways he used his quirk, morphing other hands and mouth to cup, suck, and bite over her breast and shoulders. Her dazed eyes seemed to cross, as his thrusts turned into sharp-angled blows that attacked her sweet spot, which she seemed to take note of since she was already out of it, too wrapped in the pleasure as slobber trickled down her chin.

It was after three orgasms later that Shoji was ready to burst, and she was aware of that too. As his thrust worsened, he grunted that he was about to cum, which was her cue to wrap her legs around his waist (including the chair he was sitting on) to keep him trapped, making Shoji mewl while trying to pull away, but was being forced back into her warm heat while having his body pressed together against hers, breast and chest rubbing against each other, pudge stomach squished against a well-toned one. He had to try and pry her away, hastily getting up while maintaining a firm grip on her ass and legs; he started to pull away again but was forced back inside by her legs, creating a strange pattern of him being pulled back and forth in her while standing.

She wails louder than expected as she tilts her head back. Panicked at the prospect of being caught, Shoji hurriedly covers her lips with one of his hands, which she gratefully sucked on. He wasn't surprised by her actions, having become accustomed to her slutty side. He groans while walking toward the desk in front of them. Laying her down softly, he then drapes his upper body over hers. The sensation of this massive man's body weight on her soft one was overpowering; she'd never told him this, but she enjoyed feeling small when he did that. He already towers over her while standing, but being this close and feeling his warm body and panting breath over her forehead, his lower abdomen having no problem bushing against her swollen clit. That was enough for her to cum, longing for a nice hot load from him. Which he obliged, too weak and exhausted to move away from her luscious legs (not like he was trying. He literally gave up a long time ago 😆), coming right inside her as she coos sweet nothing in his ear while caressing his arms and back.

He isn't normally like this; he was usually a calm and collected guy, but his brat of a girlfriend kept pushing him.

Cursing to himself as he was finally able to slip away from her body, he stared at the aftermath, cum trickling out of her well-abused cunt as it tried to clutch onto Shoji’s cock but couldn't.

“Look what you made me do…” He sighed.

But, looking up at him with innocent eyes, she leaned against the desk to reveal her pussy, spreading her lips to torment him with his come trickling down, "what do you mean, Baby? I just wanted to spend time with my boyfriend."

“Tch, fine, you want to act like an ignorant brat then you wouldn’t mind me using my stupid whores pussy as a stress reliever, do you? I had such a bad day with a girl classmate of mine who’s been teasing me for quite some time (It's you, boo~).” He fixated, his cock twitched in reaction to her movements and what he said.

He grasped her wrists and clasped them behind her back with one of his colossal hands after trapping her upper front torso to the desk. Another wraps around her neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before tilting her head up and kissing her feverishly.

She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, begging him to use her. Even going on her tippy toes to knead her ass on his member, trapped it between his lower abdomen and her crotch. Her ass swayed from side to side, stiffening the already semi-hard dick. He moves away from her, much to her dismay, as she whimpers and begs for his touch. Yet Shoji took his time, coating his cock with their mixed fluids that were slipping out of her to slam back into the weeping hole.

Making her jolt, arching herself back but was confined from his towering body over hers, making her cry from pleasure.

“Just know you’re responsible for the outcome.” With heart in her eyes and biting her lower lips, she nodded while eagerly answering him back, “Always~”

“Hmm…sorry didn’t quite hear that.” He said, tightening his hold on her neck.

“A-Always, Daddy~<3”

“Good girl.” He praises, tilting her head to kiss her again.

When he senses her striving to push herself upon him, he sighs.

Believe it or not, he doesn't like spoiled brats who think they can have everything they want, and as much as it was much his fault for letting her walk all over him, the six-arm man appeared to think otherwise, using his hands to his advantage in punishing his pervert lover.

So much for his simple life.

#mezo shoji smut #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #Mezo shoji x chubby reader #Shoji x Chubby reader #mha x chubby reader #mha smut #Shoji x plus!size reader #fanfiction smut #Mezo Shoji Imagine #chubby reader #smut #anime x chubby reader #chubby reader!#plus size reader!#Lemon 🍋#my hero academia x chubby reader #my hero academia smut

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drakenology · 4 years ago

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the yakuza wife - yakuzaboss!bakugo x housewife reader - inspired by @hanji-is-life ‘s sexy ass.

yakuza au

tw: violence, sadism, mentions of blood, smut, cum, cussing, daddy/ddlg kinks undertones, mentions of guns, very much harley quinn and joker only joker actually loves harley in this ya know?

“where the fuck is my money?” bakugo asks this bludgeoned man tied up to a metal chair in some god forsaken warehouse god only knows where.

“please sir, i’ll get it to you as soon as I can! please stop!” the man pleads, flinching when bakugo raises his fist to land a mean left hook into his jaw with a dark chuckle.

“you know you shouldn’t borrow from people if you have no intentions in payin’ em back. it’s fuckin’..” he pauses before taking a crowbar and bashing the man in both his knees, blood curdling screams filling the empty space. “rude!”

bakugo smirks as the man begs for mercy, pulling a set of pliers of his pocket and holding them up to the man’s face to tease him, grabbing by his neck to make him meet his intimidating gaze.

“shoulda thought of that before trying to playing me for a fuckin’ fool.. hey, I wonder how many teeth I can pull outta ya before your weak ass passes out.” he grunts, waving the plier in his face until the sound of his phone ringing stops him from doing anything.

“you’re lucky I gotta take this.” he mumbles, taking a piece of dirty cloth and shoving it into his mouth to keep him quiet.

bakugo turns away and rolls up his sleeve, setting up his tools for torture as he answers the phone.

“hi baby!” you chime, at the mall having the time of your life with his credit card.

“hey. ‘m workin’ whaddaya want?” he says, holding up his pliers and sitting them down on the table as his hostage screams in the background.

“just checking on you, dummy! whatcha want for dinner, hm? i know you haven’t eaten yet.” you say, holding up different dresses to your frame to imagine yourself in them. “hey, pink or powder blue?”

“pink. and ‘m not hungry. you’ve got security with you, right baby?” he asks, kicking the man onto the floor with a loud thud.

“of course. you won’t let me leave the house without them.” you respond, not even paying attention to the muffled screams you hear in the background. you’ve learned not to ask too many questions when it comes to being a yakuza wife.

“gotta keep my baby safe, right? listen, princess I gotta go. i’ll be home before 9 okay?”

you suck your teeth and roll your eyes, “fine. be careful okay?”

“always am. love you baby.” as he hangs up and returns to his task.

the difference between you and katsuki was night and day. everyone knew you to be so sweet and kind; unbeknownst to them all how you ended up with a cretin like Bakugo. even though Katsuki was immoral in many ways, he knew marrying you was the right thing to do. who else would want to dress his wounds and pick out his suits for the day?

katsuki demanded you quit your job. in fact he came with you to put in your two weeks notice, tough scowl staining his features as your boss signed the approval with shaking hands.

from that day on he ensured you were well taken care of and that marrying him and becoming his housewife came with many perks.

for starters, your husband was loaded. all those years of extorting and money laundering paid off every time you come home with a couple shopping bags from the mall.

katsuki loved lavishing you in the finest of everything, adoring how you look in designer. so much so, he fucks you by the bay window of your luxury penthouse, the Chanel dress he just bought you hiked up over your ass as his calloused fingers make way into your mouth. you’re pinned to the glass, bare breasts pressed against the window as he railed you from behind. and he wonders why you turned out to be a spoiled brat.

your gifts always made you stand out above the rest. many men fawn over you and he knows this. just a small price to pay for having a fine ass wife. but if anyone ever forgot their place, if anyone ever got to close. well. that’d be the last time you’d ever see them. course you have no idea why. but even though katsuki loved you with all his heart, you could be a real pain in the ass. you were so bratty, especially when he was busy.

one day you came trotting into his office in the middle of some business deal. whatever. your jimmy choos popped and you needed a new pair before the yacht party you were attending started.

“daddy’s taking care of business right now, okay? go wait outside.”

“no! you promised we’d go shopping! I need new shoes what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” you whine, pouting like usual to get your way. bakugo’s brow raised, walking towards you and gesturing for the meeting to continue without him. his hand rested on your lower back as he escorted you out.

he fucked your brains in in the next room for disobeying him, panties around your ankles, your charm anklet jingling as he picked up your legs.

“spoiled fuckin’ brat. told you to wait didn’t I? hm? or did you make a scene ‘cause you wanted my dick?” your head hangs back as your hips are held down by him, thrusts brutal as you cry for him to slow down, face turned away from his. he grabs your chin and turns you around harshly with his scarred and calloused hands, bruised knuckles turning white with a tight grip.

“look at me when i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.”

he came inside you when he was done, pulling your panties up for you as it dripped down your leg.

“now.. back to what I was doin’. tell the driver to take your ass home.” he huffs with a zip of his pants and a shake in his sleeves to fix them. bakugo leaves you on the desk, leaving the door cracked for you to leave when you got yourself together. and when you did you could hardly hold yourself up, holding your high heels in your hand as you limp to the car waiting outside for you.

having a yakuza boss as a husband was always exciting. something in you liked the danger; the thrill.

you tell this tale to your other socialite girlfriends and they almost never believe you.

you were out with bakugo on a date when work called. to your dismay, he had to get up and leave. you insisted on being brought along, hating being left alone in that big house that was often empty without him. he agreed but only if you promised to be quiet like a good little girl.

when you arrive at some warehouse (the same one mentioned earlier), a man was already hog tied on the ground, muffled screams behind a piece of duck tape as bakugo ripped it off. you sat by a table, legs folded in annoyance. this interrupted date night? you scoff and fold your arms.

“ah. good seeing you old friend. remember me?” he asks, taunting him a little with a gun in his hand pressing it against his jaw as the man let out muffled pleas for him not to shoot.

“you tried stealing from me. fuckin’ idiot. my boys caught you in some hotel with your little girlfriend. did you think you were gonna have a victory fuck after you made off with my money, hm?” bakugo asks, hitting him upside the head with the butt of his pistol.

you jump at the sound of the blow, a small part of you turned on watching your husband beat the crap out of a complete stranger. your pussy starts to ache when you peer over at bakugo’s strong tattooed arms as he flung his jacket aside, rolling his white sleeves up to ensure his expensive suit doesn’t get soiled.

“oh fuck, where are my manners? this is my lovely wife, y/n. say hi baby.” he coos at you, a switch from rough to gentle when he spoke to you. you smile and wave, the hostage sobbing out a weak greeting when bakugo demands him to.

“anyways. what’d you do with the money, asswipe? gonna tell me or are you gonna make me fuck you up in front of my pretty wife. god, look at ‘er, ain’t she gorgeous? you know I was about 30 minutes from railing her before you had to go along and ruin our night. I should kill you right here.” bakugo turns his head towards you with a sick look in his eye.

“whaddaya think, princess? what should I do to this motherfucker, huh?” he asks.

“smack him again. he ruined date night.” you grumble, folding your arms.

“he sure did, baby.” bakugo says, punching the hostage in his jaw. he gestured for his men to crowd around him, all of them taking turns kicking and beating him with metal bars. katsuki walks towards you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, a bit of blood on his knuckles as he pulled your hair. god, this whole situation was sick. but why was it so hot?

bakugo carries you away to the car, tells the driver to fuck off somewhere while he rails you in the back seat, knowing his men will take care of the rest of what he started inside the warehouse. you straddle his lap, bouncing up and down on his stiff cock as the car rocked back and forth. the car windows fog up as your body heat commingled throughout the space, your hands pressing against the glass to gain to balance as you rode his fat cock.

“fuck, daddy. you’re so hot when you’re handling business. ooh, you’re dick’s so hard.” you purr, bakugo’s hand pinching and playing with your breast as his hips thrust upwards. He smirks at you, almost a bit shocked you got as turned on as he did from the pain he inflicted.

“hmm, I know baby. god, you’re sick. getting this wet from watching me beat up some punk. dirty fuckin’ girl.” he huffed into your hair, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck followed by harsh nibbles.

truth is even though you were so sweet and caring, you had a dark side no one knew about. I mean why else would you marry into the yakuza?

you were both fucking insane.

#bnha smut #bnha bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha todoroki #bnha kirishima #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo x reader

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago

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The Setup - Ransom Drysdale smut

The one where Ransom has been written out of the will, so you become his sugar mommy.

Warnings: smut, some angst, sugar baby!ransom, ceo!reader, breeding kink, semi-public sex, exhibitionism kink, begging, cockwarming?, pregnancy themes, talk of sperm donors.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: this was the patreon-chosen fic for the month of June, so it has been available on my Patreon since then!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I tapped my manicured nails on the clothed table as we waited for the waiter to pour the wine and leave us to talk. I could sense this was an important topic because Ransom looked clearly uncomfortable, which was completely out of the ordinary for the man who so easily broke my heart all those years ago.

“You wanted to see me,” I started to push him to get the conversation going once we were left by ourselves. That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts and he connected his eyes to mine once more.

“Yes.” Clearing his throat, he readjusted himself on the chair. “First, thanks for agreeing to meet me.” I just nodded, because of course I would meet him.

Even though he was an asshole to me when he decided to end our friends with benefits relationship, there was once a time when we truly were friends. Good ones at that. And I hated that our relationship got screwed up by mixing sex to it, so I was willing to take whatever steps were necessary to meet him in some sort of middle ground, where I could have my best friend back again.

Since I couldn’t have him as a boyfriend.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this, but my grandfather cut me off the will.” My eyes widened at the information, truly shocked. My mind raced as I wondered how the hell Ransom was affording his usual lifestyle, now that he couldn’t count on his family’s money to get him by.

“Well, he cut off everyone, really.” My mouth hang open at the addition. “And you know I’d rather kill than ask my mother for anything.”

Nodding, I took a sip of my wine in the hopes of digesting these news. When I cut ties with my own family shortly after Ransom broke things off with me, I lost all forms of communication with that world - the world of the insanely rich for no reason at all - and threw myself into work instead.

It paid out. I was one of the most successful CEOs of all time, always on the Forbes list and always being contacted by people from my past who wanted something from me.

Which is why I knew exactly what was coming next. “So what do you need?” I asked, twirling my wine like I knew what the hell I was doing. Anything to avoid the awkward eye contact. “You want a job?”

His silence was his telling. It was so rare for Ransom Drysdale to be quiet, it actually managed to catch my attention and I lowered my glass to relent and establish some heavy eye contact.

“No way.” I wasn’t refusing him, I just couldn’t believe it and I knew he could understand it from my tone.

“C’mon, please consider it,” he quietly begged - or as close to that as he allowed himself to do. “Wasn’t it great when we were together?” I leaned my head, conceding him that.

“Still, you want to be my sugar baby?” I made sure to use the correct term, expecting to see him flinch or cringe, but all I got was a serious expression - the first time I ever saw him with that look in his eyes.

“It’ll be almost the same as being friends with benefits,” he tried to reason, to which I giggled.

“Only you get paid for it.” All he could do was nod. It was silent for a moment as I considered his offer, pursing my lips in thought. One thing I couldn’t deny was that the sex had always been great. And it’s not like I had enough time to pursue an actual relationship, anyway.

“Okay,” I accepted, at long last taking a sip of my wine. “But you can’t be with anyone else as long as we keep this… arrangement.” It was the only rule I had for now, and I knew Ransom was aware that this was make it or break it for me.

“I’m assuming you’re not granting me the same exclusivity,” he mused, a smirk in his features. Of course, he knew I was the one-dick-at-a-time kinda gal. Not that much had changed about me, but it was fun to be the one with the upper-hand for once.

“Don’t worry,” I winked, taking another sip of my wine. “I always wear a condom.”

Ransom’s P.O.V.

Capturing her lips in mine, I grunted when I pressed her up against the wall of her bedroom, not quite believing this turn of events. I never expected to get another shot with her, and so I had come to accept that all I’d ever have were my memories of how she felt and how great the sex was when we were together.

But here I was, able to create new memories to relive at some time in the future. Because I wasn’t fooling myself here. I knew she was only doing this out of boredom and pity, mostly because her busy schedule didn’t allow her to actually date.

And of course, I didn’t want to date either. All I wanted was to fuck, and I knew no one could ever bring me more satisfaction than her. That was one thing I was sure of.

My hands seemed to act out of their own need to touch her naked body, unzipping and undressing - tearing in the process - just to have her completely vulnerable, spread out on the bed for me.

Her taste had always been indescribable. She was the only woman I actually craved to lick, moaning in pleasure at her sweetness as I ate her out with the hunger I had been accumulating for the past years without her.

Her own moans fed my need and despite not wanting to part with her cunt just yet, I accepted the beckoning when she pulled me by the collar of my shirt to climb between her legs and take the item of clothing off.

“I want to ride you,” she whispered as I shivered, and quickly I was the one laid out on her soft sheets, naked as she lowered herself on my achingly hard cock.

As promised, the only intermission was when she stopped to roll down a condom on my member. Then… she fucked herself on me like it was the last time we’d be doing this, and not the first time she’d get to use me for the foreseeable future.

And my God, could she ride. This right here was one of the things I’d missed so much after I broke her heart and let her go. How she didn’t shy away from her own pleasure and accepted the challenge to give it to herself, regardless of whatever contribution I could make to the effort.

“Yeah, baby…” I moaned, panting, gripping her hips to help her keep riding. “Fuck, you look so pretty, fucking yourself on my cock.” When she tilted her head, amused look on her face, I already knew something good was coming.

“I thought you were the baby in the relationship, now.” I laughed, but didn’t get a chance to respond. She took advantage of my open mouth to bury her fingers between my lips and I sucked her digits, unbothered by the drool that was now escaping my mouth.

Yeah, one thing I was sure of: for as long as this arrangement lasted, I would never regret it. How could I, when she entertained and complemented my flirty and lustful behavior so well?

She liked to watch porn with me, sometimes just sitting on my dick and other moments, full-on riding me. She was the type to let me use her whenever I wanted, just as long as I didn’t interrupt whatever the hell she was doing. This meant conference calls were no big deal whenever there was no video because I could just bend her over the table and take her, relieving this fucking arousal she always reignited in me no matter what time of day it was.

Of course, the same went for me. But what I loved about her was that using me for her pleasure could mean either sitting on my face or sucking my soul out of my body when it came to her.

She liked the way I tasted. She’d told me so more than once, but I think for her it was just another way to witness how she affected me, when she managed to get me to cum using only her mouth.

I knew I’d come to regret this arrangement once it was over, but I thought I’d be able to keep that fear at bay by focusing on the fun we had together. What I didn’t anticipate was that each moment shared with her only reinforced that fear, reminding me of why it was that I broke things off with her, why I ran away and forced myself to never look back.

I was rudely awakened from my seemingly perfect reality one afternoon, when I decided to visit her office, finding her going through different files with pictures of handsome men with focused attention.

“What is this?” I picked up one of them, running my eyes over the information. Height, weight, health history… My blood ran cold when I realized what it was, even before she confirmed it.

“Applications for a sperm donor.” My throat ran dry as I let the file in my hands fall back on the table, and still she never raised her gaze to meet mine.

I didn’t know what to say. All I knew was that I didn’t like this feeling at the bottom of my stomach, this overwhelming need to have her in my arms and reassure myself that she was mine - even though she wasn’t.

“… Am I not providing you with enough cum already?” I joked, hoping to ease the tension, praying that she’d look up at me and roll her eyes, explain she was going over this for some friend or something.

When she instead raised her gaze to meet mine and held it with a serious look in her eyes, I knew my fear had caught up to me.

“Why are you doing this?” It slipped from my lips before I could stop it, and now that it was out there, I knew everything else would come out too. Y/N pushed away from the table to stand up, turning her back to me momentarily instead of immediately providing me with an answer.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, staring out her floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline of the city in plain view for the both of us. “I’m getting older and I know I’m never gonna have the time to pursue a real relationship. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. This seems like the only way of doing this.”

I held my breath, heart beating wildly inside my chest as I took in her figure, imagining it different - hips wider, breasts fuller. A kid on her rounder stomach. And it wouldn’t be because of me.

“Why don’t we have one together?” I watched her freeze in surprise, features unreadable for the seconds it took to get a reaction out of her. When it did come, it wasn’t the one that I was expecting.

“Are you out of your mind?” She laughed, hands covering her belly from how much her body shook with the action. I grinded my teeth, trying not to let it affect me.

“I don’t see how that’s amusing, sweetheart.” My tone left it clear that I was pissed as hell with her, and she stopped laughing at that point, although not for the reason I had wanted.

“I can’t believe you’re being serious.” She shook her head, hands on her hips in incredulity. “I can’t believe you’re that desperate for money, that you’d offer something like this just so I will keep paying you.”

That hurt. I tried not to let it show by scoffing and brushing the comment off of me. I knew I deserved it, so I focused on my goal: showing her that the man she shouldn’t believe wasn’t the one standing before her.

“It’s not for the money,” I said, watching her arms fall at the side of her body in shock. “You were always the one that I wanted.” It was maybe ten years too late, but it was the truth.

Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to believe it - or at least, she wasn’t prepared to accept it. All she did was hum as she turned around to occupy herself with the files once more, like I hadn’t said anything at all to her.

“It’s true,” I insisted, not quite sure of what else I could say to get her to believe me, but much to my surprise, that was the sentence that took her from denial to anger.

“C’mon, Ransom,” she argued, “If it wasn’t for Harlan cutting you off, you would have never gotten in touch with me again.” I nodded, granting her that.

“Yes, but not because I didn’t want you,” I explained. “I wanted you way too much, in fact. More than I have ever wanted anyone in my life.”

And there it was. The truth, at last spread out before our eyes for her to take in. I’d had the time to process it, come to terms with it, so I could accept that she’d need it too. She just had to see that it was in fact the whole truth - the reason why I broke it off with her and the reason I was scared of being with her again.

I wasn’t prepared to feel that much for someone. I wasn’t prepared to give myself to someone in the way true love required. But what I had come to learn in our time apart and the moments we shared since we started this arrangement was that it happened anyway.

I gave myself to her because I still loved her deeply and I knew I always would. So I was prepared to finally relish in the benefits of my reality, instead of continuously suffering in my avoidance.

“Why are you telling me this now?” She asked, and hope started to fill my lungs, spreading over my chest and reaching parts of me I had forgotten about. It made me take a step closer to her, almost reaching out to take her in my arms.

“Would you have believed me if I told you before?” I knew I’d caught her there. I was too much of a player, too out of touch with my own feelings the last time we were together. And even though I liked to think not much had changed, it was clear that it had. I’d changed as much internally as my life changed after Harlan broke the news about cutting me off the will.

“I want to be alone,” she suddenly broke me out of my thoughts, turning her back to me and focusing on her desk once more. For a second, I thought that was it. I thought I had lost her. But the thought had me so distressed it quickly became an angry determination to make her believe me and give me another chance.

“Well, I don’t want to leave you,” I declared, hands over my hips when she turned around to stare at me in incredulity. For a few minutes we remained there, facing each other, waiting for the other to break.

“I can’t believe you want me for more than my body and money,” she finally broke the connection, looking at her own feet when she crossed her arms. I could hear the hurt in her voice, and I could feel it in my heart as I was once again forced to confront my own mistakes and how they affected her.

But I wasn’t about to give up now.

“It’s alright, I’ll show you,” I assured her, pulling her close so I could capture her lips in a bruising kiss. My hands roamed over the expanse of her back before they went to her ass until finally, I reached the hem of her skirt, pulling it up to her hips.

“Goddamn it, you’re a stubborn idiot,” she complained once I parted from her lips to catch my breath, but ever her own voice held a tone of amusement while I laughed.

“And I’m about to breed you, so you better get used to the idea of raising another stubborn idiot.” I felt her muscles freezing underneath my touch, the reality of my intentions shocking her even after everything I said. I just took advantage of her lowering her defenses to turn her around and shove her down against her table, my fingers already rubbing the slit between her thighs to find her wet and ready.

“Not wearing any underwear, huh?” I teased, leaning over her to brush a kiss against the shell of her ear while my hands worked on ridding me of my slacks.

The way we fit together could never compare to anything else in this world. I didn’t know how I was able to live so long without her pussy clenching around me, pretending I didn’t know what heaven felt like - but it did explain why I was so hungry in my pursuit of other women, why as much as I fucked I could never really feel satisfied.

They weren’t her, and therefore, they would never be able to make me happy. And I knew I made her happy, her moans assured me as much when they escaped her perfect lips to take over the office room she spent most of her days in.

“I’d try to keep quiet if I were you, baby. You wouldn’t want your staff to know how much of a whore you are, huh?” I teased, smirking at how ruined she looked like, with the side of her face resting against he desk. “Getting filled in your own damn office, right where you take so many meetings in. If only they knew how perfect you feel when I fuck you like this.”

She couldn’t hide from this anymore. She couldn’t hide from me. And she knew it, which was why she whined as she felt her orgasm approach with my continuous thrusting.

“Hold it, sweetheart,” I asked, trailing my fingers down her back. “Beg me for my cum. Beg me to breed you.” She hesitated for just a second before throwing her pride away and relenting.

“Please, cum inside of me,” she pleaded, voice small but firm. “I-I want to feel you filling me up.” That did it for me. As I reached my peak and came deep inside of her, my fingers met her nub so she’d join me in the paradise I could only ever enter when she was in my arms, groaning in satisfaction when I felt her sweet, tight pussy clenching my dick.

“You stay right there,” I ordered, keeping my hand on her back so she wouldn’t waste any of my cum by trying to leave. But she didn’t. She just stood there while I caressed her skin, smiling softly at the woman I loved, knowing from now on, she’d be mine.

“You know this means you’ll become my trophy boyfriend, right?” She mulled at some point, making me chuckle.

“I hope it means I’ll become your trophy husband eventually, baby.”

#my fics #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale #smut #sugar baby au #ceo au #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction

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mindofharry · 3 years ago

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Small blurb on sucking harry’s dick before his first show! yes, i did that. smut! language! harry being dirty! Y/N being a boss bitch! enjoy!!!

Harry was in his dressing room, alone for a change, before the concert started. He missed you. Although, being alone before the concert might calm his nerves down. Usually, you’re here sitting on the sofa either helping him with his shoes or ties, or just saying some encouraging words. But this year, you couldn’t make it. At least that’s what harry thinks. You’ve been staying with your grandma for a couple months now, and you and harry have only seen each other twice. Harry thinks you’re still looking after your grandma, but in actuality you’re currently waiting for the right moment to surprise him. You were able to get your cousin to stay with your grandma for the next couple of weeks, so you could tour with harry. But it was only for about three weeks, so you want to make the most of your time together.

Harry sound so upset when you said you couldn’t make his first concert. You weren’t there for his first solo tour, only meeting you two years ago at a friends party. You and Glenne had been friends for a while, meeting through your sister who went to high school with Glenne. She’s like another older sister to you, meaning you were at her party. Harry met you and was immediately enamoured by you. He just needed to know more about you. Your favourite colour, favourite band, favourite food. Turns out you had a lot in common and were very attracted to each other, so you went on dates. You both really liked each other and everyone around you knows you’re each others forever.

“Fuck” Harry said to himself, trying to get his shoes on. The shoes were amazing, everything he wanted — but they were a little more complicated to anything else he’s worn.

“It can’t be this hard” Harry mumbled to himself, trying to pull the zip on the side up. You took this as your que to exist the little closet Jeff had stuffed you in. You had told Jeff about this months ago and he thought it was an amazing idea. He helped you with flights and times, and of course not much help with the hiding places but a small closet would have to do.

“Need some help with those?” You asked and harry immediately stopped what he was doing. He slowly turned around and there you stood, his girl, his love, right in front of him. You were dressed in a long summer dress, pink, matching with harry. Your hair was curled and your make up was natural, you even wore the earrings he bought you for christmas. You looked beautiful. You bit your lip and walked over to harry, who seemed to be frozen in place.

“Baby?” He asked and you nodded placing your hands over his cheeks, harry immediately melted into your touch almost whimpering at your warm, soft hands. He missed this, he missed you.

“Fuck, I missed you so much” He said pulling you into a hug. His head went to the crevice in your neck, and his arms went around your waist bringing you into a tight, warm hug. Harry needed this. He needed you. It was silent for a couple of minutes, no one spoke, you both just enjoyed each other in a comfortable silence.

Harry pulled away from the hug, quickly but softly. He looked down at your lips and your smirked. “Kiss me already?” You said and harry chuckled bringing his lips to yours. Memories flooded back instantly, your lips were like a photo album. Everytime harry placed his lips on yours a whole rush of emotions and vivid memories come running back to him. He feels so many things while kissing you. Harry feels warm, and giddy. He feels like a summer afternoon, he feels like dinner after a day at the beach, he feels like the start of a new book, he feels everything, every emotion you could possibly think of.

Harrys tongue entered your mouth and you moaned loudly, as you both fought for dominance. Your hands reached his curly hair, and you tugged on roughly making harry break the kiss. “I love it when you do that” He said before diving back down to your lips. He placed his hands under your thighs lifting your up so your legs wrap around his waist never once breaking the kiss.

“Let me help you” You said, out of breath. Harry’s eyebrows raised slightly as you stroked his hair softly.

“I can feel your cock, harry. So hard. Probably so red, just waiting for me to suck on it right?” You questioned, harry whined but didn’t respond. You tugged on his hair. “Use your words” You said. “Do you want me to suck on your cock?” You asked and harry nodded quickly.

“Please, baby. Suck my cock” Harry insisted putting you down on the ground and immediately going to take off his pants. He wasn’t wearing any boxers. You looked at his cock, you were right. It was undeniably hard, red and the tip was full of pre cum. The way his cock looked made you lick your lips and whimper softly.

“Sit down” You ordered, harry immediately followed through sitting down on the couch behind him. He spread his legs a little, and looks up at you expectedly. You smiled and took the hair tie from your wrist, collecting your hair quickly and putting it up out of the way. Harry bit his lip as excitement formed in his (cock) stomach.

“So proud of you, you know?” You said getting down on your knees. “Love how confident you are on stage” You said leaning down, placing your hand on his right thigh. “I love your confidence and how much exhilaration you get from this” You continued, placing your other hand on his left thigh. Harry hand went to your ponytail and tugged on it slightly. You pouted, but gave in.

You leaned your head down and kissed the inside of his thighs, harrys eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Love everything about you” You said.

“Especially your cock”

You gripped the base of his cock, kissing all the way up to his tip. Harry’s head fell backwards and his hands tugged on your pony tail again, you continued kissing around the tip of his penis while playing with his shaft. At throaty moan escaped him as your hand moved up and down his member.

“You want me to suck?” You asked, harry’s eyes widened and he nodded eagerly. “Yes please” He said, practically begging at this point. You kissed his tip again, before placing your lips over the tip of his cock. Harry moaned loudly, bucking his hips up, pushing his cock into your mouth more. You gagged a little, but got comfortable pretty quickly. Harry tasted amazing, it was your favourite thing to do. If you could have his dick in your mouth all day, everyday you’d be a happy girl.

Your hands move to his hips, and you hold them tightly trying to stop him from fucking your mouth. You want to be in control, you deserve it after not having cock for so long.

You moan as you feel him at the back of your throat, your finger working his shaft quickly.

Looking up at harry quickly, you see his flushed cheeks and his eyes tightly closed. His hair is messy from you tugging at it early, you can’t help but mentally high five yourself for that one because harry has never looked so good. Seeing him so undone, made you feel an abundance of things. Turned on being the number one thing.

You moan loudly again, sending vibrations through harry’s body. He buck up at the sound and the feeling, you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Taste so good” You said before placing his cock in your mouth again, whimpering at the feeling. Your eyes are filled with tears, and you’re sure your mascara is running down your face. You’ll get a touch up later. Harry loves it, he loves make up being so messy and his hair looking like he hasn’t brushed it in days.

Harry wants everyone to know his cock had been in your mouth.

“You love this. You’re a slut for my cock, right? My little slut wants everyone to know she loves my cock” Harry said as he pulled on your pony tail, fucking your mouth. You didn’t answer, but your moans sufficed. “You’re so good to me. Letting me fucking your mouth like that. Such a good girl” Harry said moaning loudly as his hips begin to thrust into your mouth.

Your sex was dripping, all down your thighs and you were sure you’d cum from just being mouth fucked.

Harry being to move faster as his climax approached, pulling at your pony tail.

“Take it all, baby”

“Fuck, yeah, just like that” Harry said, as he climaxed, you took all of his cum and swallowed it happily. Again, you like how he tasted. You cleaned up his stomach, and sucked on his cock a little too. He was sensitive, you knew that, but he asked you to clean him up. So you did just that.

“Feeling even more confident to go on stage now?” You asked, your throat horsed. Harry chuckled leaning down and pecking your lips, tasting that reminiscence of his cum on your lips.

“Who knew you sucking my dick would make me feel so much better?”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles xy/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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Promises, promises

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You believed that promises are meant to be broken but Bucky always proved you wrong. Until one day, he proved you right.

Word Count: 6,555 (oops I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Angst, a tiny bit of self-doubt but with a happy ending!!!

A/N: Some tags aren’t working, damn u tumblr! Anyway enjoy the angst and the shitty writing lmfao. Also kinda want to do ficlets for these two??? Like short fics about the happenings in their relationship, their first date, how they dealt with the break up idk, lemme know if anyone’s interested in that xoxo

MAIN MASTERLIST

It's been four and a half years since Bucky broke up with you and honestly, you're fine now. Fine, as in you've moved on from him and that you haven't been stalking his Instagram account anymore or have been asking Steve how he's doing since the break up. You're fine now, really.

There was not an ounce of denial left in your body after almost two years of pining and self-blame. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten the pain he caused you when he woke up one day and realized that he didn't need you anymore.

Forgive and forget they often told you and you badly wanted to do so. But it wasn't that easy to do, not when you still feel the pain as if it only happened yesterday.

"What did you say?" your forehead creased as you walked around the kitchen counter, quickly approaching Bucky who had his back to you as he stood in the living room of your shared apartment.

You weren't sure if you heard him right, or if he actually said anything. Perhaps you were just hearing things? Just this morning he woke up and greeted you with his charming smile before pressing a soft peck on your lips. You had cooked breakfast together, laughed together and even talked about what to have for dinner.

Sure, something about his demeanor earlier was a bit off, but you assumed it had something to do about his work and not because he wanted to break up with you.

Right?

"Bucky, what did you say?" you pressed when Bucky remained quiet; he didn't even turn around to face you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, "I said I need space." he murmured.

"What do you mean, Buck?" you asked again, voice small and shaky as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Of course you knew what exactly Bucky meant by that, but you didn't want to believe it. You were hopeful that maybe this was one of those petty fights you used to have, one where Bucky would spend the night over at Steve's. He'll come around the next day, he always does that. You always woke up to him whispering apologies to your ear and you would say your sorry too.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before finally turning to you, "I can't do this anymore." he said, shaking his head before averting his gaze to the floor.

He must have seen the look in your eyes when he faced you. As much as you believed that you were pretty good at hiding your emotions, it never worked on Bucky. He was the only person who could always read you; you could never hide from him.

"Bucky, I don't understand." you let out a nervous chuckle as you hugged yourself, biting your lower lip to prevent them from quivering as you held back the urge to cry.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, "I just...you've been too...fuck, I don't know how to say this without hurting you. I really don't want to." he admitted dejectedly, looking up at you.

You scoffed, "Just fucking say it, Bucky. I'm already hurt just by having this conversation." you told him.

"You're too good for me. Way too good."

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind again as you laid your eyes on him, four and a half years after your break-up. And just like that, you were back to square one.

You did your best to avoid him after he left, you felt like Bucky too tried to do the same. It was harder than you thought, given that you belonged to the same circle of friends. There were missed birthday parties, anniversaries and get togethers. If you knew Bucky was going to be there, you’d bail. Thank god you had a bunch of understanding friends who never took your absences against you.

But an engagement party between two of your friends? Now that was something you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

You’ve been really happy for quite a while now, to the point that it never crossed your mind that Bucky would surely be attending as well. He had been out of your system since the day you decided to move past him, which is why you thought that you were finally a-okay.

Tonight proved you wrong because as you watched Bucky smile and greet your friends, you realized that you still wanted to punch him and hurt him and tell him that you were still in lo—

“Hi.”

You were too focused on daydreaming about how you wanted to hurt Bucky that you failed to notice that he made his way to you and was now waiting for you to greet him back.

Bucky was smiling at you the same way he did on the night you first met at a college house party. You and Bucky have been together for that long.

“Hi.”

The music was too loud that you missed out on the stranger’s greeting, if not for his shadow looming over your hunched figure as you sat on the staircase, you would’ve completely ignored him.

The guy was looking down at you with a charming smile that made your cheeks turn pink. He was tall and slightly muscular, something you noticed right off the bat all thanks to the tight red henley he was sporting. The guy had long hair too, but it was tied back into a low man bun that was messy enough to leave tendrils of stray hair to frame his handsome face.

“Hi.” He repeated with a chuckle, a hint of amusement laced in his tone as he bit his lip at the sight of you just staring up at him.

“Hi?” You stammered awkwardly.

He laughed, “Um, can I pass through or is there some sort of password required?”

You realized that you had been blocking his way, everyone’s way actually. Quickly, you apologized and stood up to leave your spot only for the guy to block your way before you could even hop off of the last step of the staircase.

Thinking that you must have confused him and the direction you intended to go, you murmured a soft apology again before sidestepping him but to no avail. You looked up at him with a frown when you noticed that he was intentionally blocking your way.

It didn’t help that he was way taller than you. Despite the one being on the last step of the staircase, the guy still loomed over you.

“Excuse me?” You snapped and tried to move past him but he was way bigger than you and managed to stop you from passing through.

He had a cheeky smile on as he watched your futile attempt to squeeze your way out of his large body. You huffed out when he held onto the rail while his other hand on the wall, completely trapping you on the staircase.

“What’s the password?” He asked, still grinning at you.

You deadpanned, “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

You stared at him blankly before glancing at his hands, observing whether you had a chance at prying them away from where they held on. It was then that you noticed how his left hand was covered in tattoos. The sleeve of his henley rode up quite a bit to reveal that his tattoos reached his wrist, he probably had his entire left arm sleeved with ink.

“Can I please pass?” You huffed out when you concluded that there was no way you would be able to escape him.

“Like I said, I need a password.” He insisted.

“Penis.” You stated, face free from any sort of expression.

The guy choked on his laughter, “Why would you honestly think that?” He asked incredulously.

You shrugged, “I thought you guys liked dick jokes.” You reasoned out.

The guy laughed as he shook his head, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“It’s not the password?” You asked. “Don’t I get a hint or something, I really don’t have time for games right now. I have to go back to my dorm. I have a test tomorrow.” You told the guy.

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about a test. What’s your major anyway?” He asked.

You groaned, “Like I said, I don’t have time for games or even for a conversation. Come on, just let me pass through!”

The guy hummed as he stared at you, as if he was thinking of something. You wanted to look away but he had beautiful ocean blue eyes that you found yourself slowly getting lost in.

“I’ll give you hints.” He announced. “Two hints actually, because I’m feeling generous.”

“Okay, then. Just spit it out!” You rushed.

The guy grinned.

“The password is made up of your name followed by your number.”

“Hi.”

You blinked when Bucky repeated his greeting. When you regained your senses, you cleared your throat and simply nodded at him as acknowledgment. You saw how Bucky’s smile faltered seconds before you looked away and pretended to look for someone.

“I can’t believe you just brushed me off.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Bucky had cut off his hair right after graduation. He sported a clean cut since then but now he had longer locks; not as long as his college hair though. It just looked fluffier, you fought the urge to imagine how it’d feel through your fingers.

“I can’t believe you just expected me to greet you as if nothing happened.” You told him, letting your eyes wander around the place.

Bucky exhaled heavily and shook his head, “I thought we’d be okay by now.” He admitted. “Guess I was wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, snapping your head into his direction after avoiding his gaze earlier. “I am okay, but that doesn’t mean I am okay with being around you.” You hissed.

“I honestly thought we’d still be friends, you know. Civil at least.”

What has gotten into Bucky’s mind for him to expect a lovely reunion between the both of you? Things didn’t end well, he just left. He was too ambitious to even think that you’d greet him with rainbows and butterflies.

“We’re not friends, Bucky. Not even acquaintances.” You told him.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something until someone tapped on the mic, announcing that the newly engaged couple, Wanda and Vis, had something to say to their guests. By the time he looked back at you, you had already walked away and joined Nat at their table.

It reminded Bucky of the days when he used to watch your back retreat into your dorm whenever he walked you home.

“So, you gonna tell me the password or what?”

You felt all your blood rush to your head and you’ve never been thankful for existence of strobe lights. You were probably red as a tomato. Who wouldn’t be anyway? This handsome dude just asked for your name and number!

“Is this a joke?” You managed to asked and thanked the heavens that you didn’t stutter.

The guy shook his head, “I don’t really joke around.” He shrugged.

“Why do you even want to know my name and number?” you curiously asked.

Bucky shrugged, “Been watching you since you arrived.”

“Creeper.” you accused.

“Hard not to when you’re the only grumpy person in a party. I know your friends dragged you here, I mean you said you have a test tomorrow and you don’t seem the type to party a day before. Besides, you’ve been keeping to yourself the entire time. Figured you might want some company, one with substance.” he boastfully wiggled his eyebrows at you.

His confidence appalled you but you were also surprised at how he seemed to have read your mind. Or personality, in general.

“Hey, Bucky!”

You watched the guy turn his head towards front door where a blonde guy— Steve from the student council, you recognized— entered. You thought it’d give you a chance to slip away but the guy, well Bucky, kept his hands in place.

“Kinda busy right now, pal. I’ll catch up with you later.” He said.

Steve’s gaze moved past Bucky until they landed on you. He chuckled as he shook his head at his friend’s antics. Steve walked away but not without acknowledging you.

“He may not seem like it, but Bucky’s a good guy. You can take my word for it.”

Bucky turned to you and lifted an eyebrow, “I mean, coming from a student council member, that’s a pretty credible source.” He said confidently.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. You had to admit, Bucky had a way with words and actions. His boyish charm was working on you and you hated how easily you were falling for it. And you just met the guy like ten minutes ago!

“So, what’s the password?” Bucky asked again.

You tapped your foot as you crossed your arms over your chest, “You promise to let me go if I tell you?”

Bucky made a face, “I don’t think that’s the right term because you can expect more of me once you give me the password. But I’ll definitely step aside. That’s a promise.” He reassured.

“Promises are meant to be broken.” You stated.

“Yeah, well watch me prove you wrong. Password? Pretty please?” He asked cutely and fuck, Bucky was really winning you over just like that.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you tell him your name and number. Just as he promised, Bucky stepped aside and quickly fished out his phone to type in your number. You honestly didn’t expect for him to remember it after hearing it once, but you peeked and he actually did. Impressive.

“Like I promised, off you go to study.” He said and motioned his arm towards the front door.

You sighed and offered a small smile before finally walking past him. You were about to open the front door when Bucky beat you to it.

“I told you ‘let go’ is the wrong term ‘cause I’m walking you home tonight.” Bucky said. “And tomorrow night too. And the next night and the next next night. Or afternoon. Morning? Whatever time your classes finish.”

Bucky really proved you wrong that night because he did walk you home the next night and the next next night too. It went on until he no longer had to watch you enter your dorm or apartment because eventually, the two of you ended up going to the same home.

It’s very ironic really, that it was also Bucky who failed to prove you wrong when he broke his promise not to hurt you, ever. You wondered whether it was your fault that you actually believed in him. It was hard not to though, because Bucky’s earned your trust from all the promises he made and kept.

Which is why it was even more painful when one day, he decided to break the one promise you truly held on to.

“I’ll always love you, you know that right?”

Bucky blurted it out randomly that his statement confused the hell out of you. The two of you were just playing a video game when he said it, making you hit pause.

“And where did that come from?” You asked with amusement.

Bucky frowned, “You could’ve reacted differently. I was hoping for a high-pitched ‘awwww!’ and this is what I get?” He teased, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb to pull you close so he could bite your nose playfully.

“You said it out of the blue!” You told him with a laugh. “But it made me happy though.” You admitted and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, well it’s true. I mean, this thing we got? It’s forever.” Bucky said and lovingly smiled at you.

You pretended to gag at his words but it was obvious that you felt like you were on cloud nine when Bucky said that. “Cheeseballs!” You teased.

“This cheeseball’s gonna put a ring on that finger one day. That’s a promise!”

A finger snapped right in front of your face, “You good?” Nat asked.

You nodded and tried your hardest not to look at Bucky. He was seated with Steve, Sam and some other guys at the table next to yours. You could feel him staring at you and it was making you anxious. Nat and Sharon exchanged looks before letting out a sigh in unison.

“Come on, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that!” You told them with a forced chuckle.

“What did Bucky say?” Sharon asked. She’d seen Bucky approach you upon his arrival, saw the expressions you both had as you talked and knew immediately that it didn’t go well.

Nat hummed before taking a quick sip from her glass of wine, “We’ve been watching and we’re curious.”

“He was expecting for us to be friends.” You simply stated.

Nat and Sharon groaned and rolled their eyes, “What a dick.” Nat said.

“Men really do have the audacity.” Sharon laughed and shook her head.

You joined her laughter and lifted up your own glass of wine, “I’ll drink to that.” You said before finishing your drink in one go.

One glass of wine turned into two and then three and then four. Six drinks later and you were buzzed and unstoppable. You weren’t that drunk, you were good at handling alcohol but you were tipsy for sure. The formalities of the engagement party were finally done and the guests were left to mingle around.

Wanda and Vis immediately went to your table to catch up and after giving them your heartfelt congratulations (and apologies for missing out on plenty of events), you decided to step out of the venue to get some fresh air.

The silence allowed you to process your thoughts, the same thoughts you had repressed for years. You were happy for Wanda and Vis, truly. The two have been the epitome of soulmates and it was only right for them to end up tying the knot. But you also couldn’t help but wonder, would you and Bucky end up in marriage too had he decided to stay and work things out with you?

You lift up your left hand and stared at your bare ring finger. Just a few years ago, you’d been wearing a simple gold band studded with tiny diamonds around it— a promise ring. Bucky had given it as a gift on your 6th anniversary. You’d gotten together when you were just 19 and Bucky 21. People always doubted that your relationship with him wouldn’t last long given that the two of you were so different. Not to mention, Bucky had a reputation. Girls fawned over him; he was tall and handsome, had a rugged appeal to him thanks to his long hair and tattooed left arm. He drove a damn motorcycle that got him into trouble plenty of times.

You were Miss Goody Two Shoes who played it safe and Bucky was the Big Bad Wolf who liked taking risks.

It was a surprise when your relationship with him kept on progressing and the next thing you knew, the both of you have been together for a total of eight long years. It would’ve reached nine but shit happened and Bucky decided that those eight years didn’t matter to him anymore.

“Can we talk?”

If Bucky asked you that a couple of years ago, you would’ve probably punched him in the face and kneed him at the crotch before running away. Well, you still wanted to do so but a part of you wanted to talk things out. Get a proper closure maybe since Bucky failed to give you a detailed explanation that would help you understand why he chose to leave you.

Nat told you once that some things are better left unsaid. You spent years secretly pining for Bucky after the break up, spent nights questioning yourself where you lacked that made him leave you. You’d asked Steve about Bucky whether he met someone knew or how he was dealing with the break up; it did you more damage than good until you finally gave up and decided to actually move on.

But now that Bucky was here and there was no way to avoid him, maybe you deserved this confrontation after all.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the pavement right in front of you.

You felt Bucky stand beside you, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans before turning to you, “About us.”

You snickered, “Us? What about us? What is there to talk about us?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

Bucky’s eyes have always been your favorite feature of his. They were very expressive and if Bucky could see through you every damn time, it was his eyes that you could always read. They were still blue but they held a certain emotion in them as he gazed at you.

Sadness and...regret?

Before your assumptions could get the best of you, you turned away and waited for Bucky to speak again.

“I can’t keep on avoiding you.” He said. “I’ve been doing so for the past few years and it kills me.” He admitted.

“And you think I want to keep doing this too? I’ve missed out on so many occasions because I just couldn’t be around you. You’re not the only one struggling.” You said.

Bucky shrugged, “Then let’s stop avoiding each other.”

The way he suggested it almost offended you; he was so nonchalant about it as if it was so easy to just let him waltz back into your life. Truth was, you dreamt of the day that he’d come crawling back to you. But you knew better than to let your walls down just because you miss him.

“When Steve told me that you seemed to be doing well, I really thought it meant that we can become friendly with each other, y’now. I mean, eight years. Those years meant so much to me, we’ve been through a lot and—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Barnes?!” You bitterly chuckled.

“If those eight years together really meant a lot to you, you would’ve stayed. You would’ve allowed me to work it out with you! But what, you broke up with me because you thought I was too good for you? That you felt suffocated just because I was looking out for you?”

You didn’t mean to snap at Bucky like that, in your mind you thought you would be able to have a calm conversation with him. But with the alcohol running through your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing yourself and and feeling the same way you did on that specific night.

“Too good? How am I too good for you, Buck?” You asked, immediately wiping off the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You have everything planned out! For yourself, for us. And it makes me feel fucking useless! I see you work your way up at your job and I’m still figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life!” He exclaimed.

You shook your head, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” You whispered. “If you told me this then I could’ve done something about it, Buck! Rather than let it get this far, I would’ve fixed it.” You told him and tried to reach out but Bucky took a step back.

“That too! You’re a fixer! You always end up fixing things. This relationship has become an endless cycle of me fucking up things and you picking up the pieces. And every single time you clean my mess, I feel like you’re hoping I’d be like the others. It’s like you’re trying to make me into a person I’m not just so I could fit this, this certain mold you had in mind!” He accused you.

You wiped again your tears and refused to believe him, “That’s not true, Bucky! I’ve always loved you for who you are, I never asked you to change for me!”

“Yes, you do! You never said it but I always felt it...when Steve got promoted and when Sam finally launched his business. You always wanted me to be like them, you never said it out loud but that’s what you made me feel whenever we talk about my job...or lack thereof.” He chuckled bitterly.

Bucky may not be traditional in the sense that he considered himself an artist. He never liked the idea of settling for a nine to five desk job so he took on a job as a tattoo artist. It wasn’t a permanent job and he didn’t have clients demanding for him all the time so it gave him time to work for a motorcycle shop too.

It was never a problem for you but practically speaking, your and Bucky’s joint savings wouldn’t be enough for the future that the both of you have planned out.

“I’ve been supportive of you! I never asked you to give up on those jobs, Bucky.” You defended yourself.

Bucky nodded his head, “You don’t know it but you do. That’s how I felt whenever you suggested that I try something else.”

“It’s because I know you can do so much more! Stay at the tattoo parlor and mechanic shop, then fine! But don’t settle because you have the potential to make it out there, that’s what I want you to know! I don’t understand why you’re limiting yourself, Buck. Why you’re suddenly so afraid.”

You carefully took a step closer to Bucky and thank god he let you this time. You swallowed the lump in your throat and reached out to cup his face in your hand. Bucky was livid, his chest rising heavily with every breath he took.

“You were the one who taught me to be brave, to take risks. I used to be so afraid, remember? Afraid to ride your motorcycle, to try out that job I thought I couldn’t handle. I was so scared to commit,” you chuckled, remembering how much you hesitated to give Bucky a chance when he asked you to be officially his girlfriend.

“...but you’ve always been there for me. And I want to do the same with you. I know that it seems scary to let go of what you believe is your calling. You don’t have to let go of it, Buck. But you gotta try something new too.” You said as you let your thumb caress the skin beneath his eyes.

There was silence between the two of you. Bucky had calmed down and you thought that it was over. Little did you know that it was simply the calm before the storm. Because the words that came out of Bucky’s mouth were the words you didn’t expect to hear.

“Well, this is me trying something new.”

Bucky refused to meet your gaze and simply let your hand move away from his face. You shook your head no as you turned around to compose yourself.

“We were fine this morning, Buck. What happened?” You asked and embraced yourself, seeking comfort you knew you’d only get if Bucky changed his mind.

“I thought we were fine too. But the tattoo parlor is closing in a month and we haven’t been getting plenty of clients at the motorcycle shop. And it just hit me y’now, I dread coming home to you because I know you’d be disappointed and that again, you’d offer to fix my shit and the thing is, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to fix my shit or tell me how to deal with my problems! I woke up and realized that I just don’t...” Bucky paused when you swiftly turned around with a frown, eyes brimming with a fresh new wave of tears.

“Don’t say it, Bucky. I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t nag you or pressure you into anything. Just please, don’t say it. Please don’t. We can still work this out.” You begged Bucky.

You weren’t sure you could take it, what he wanted to say. You already knew what he was going to tell you, you didn’t want to hear it. Let other people say it but god, it’d break you if you heard it from him.

“I’m sorry but I don’t need you anymore.”

The stabbing pain in your heart felt so familiar, the kind that punched all the air out of your lungs. You thought you were done crying over Bucky, but you were so wrong.

“I fucked up.” Bucky huffed out, bowing his head as if ashamed.

“You realized that just now?” You snickered. “Do you know how long it took for me to get over you? To forget the pain from hearing you tell me that you don’t need me anymore? After eight years together, Buck. You were my first everything and you gave up on us. And you really expected us to be friends, just like that?!” You spat.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed, lifting his head to look up at you and you were surprised that his eyes were glazed with tears.

“I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong. Because you were right, I shouldn’t have settled then. But god I was an idiot, an insecure idiot.” He admitted.

“I was so used to being the one who guided you that it fucking hurt my ego when I noticed that you were becoming your own person outside of our relationship. I was supposed to be the one supporting you, pushing you to be better. You ended being the one leading me. I let my ego get the best of me and thought I’d be better off without you. But it was the biggest mistake of my life because when I left, I felt even more lost.” Bucky explained.

You were left speechless, you weren’t sure why Bucky was telling you all this. Did he want you back or was he simply apologizing? You didn’t have words so you remained quiet and waited to see whether Bucky had more to say.

“I’m so sorry, I really am. I hurt you. I should’ve stayed, should’ve worked with you to fix our relationship. I hate what we’ve become, I sincerely wanted us to be civil with each other at least.” He said.

“Bucky, you’ve been saying the same thing over and over again. I’m not sure you understand the situation. I can’t be friends with you. Not after what happened. I thought I was fine but now I realized that I’ve never really moved on from the pain you caused me.” You told him and sniffed, looking back to check whether your friends could see you.

Thankfully, all the guests were still busy mingling with each other. It’s as if the universe meant for this confrontation to happen. But now you weren’t sure what to do after you finally got a clear explanation from Bucky.

“I wanted a fresh start with you.” Bucky said. “Thought that it would make it easier for me to win you over if we were friends again.”

You scoffed in disbelief, “It’s not that easy, Buck. I can’t just let you walk back into my life after your apology. It doesn’t work that way.”

You tried to move past him but he immediately blocked your way, “When I said I’ll always love you, I meant it. I still do. I want to make things right, please. Give me one last chance to fix this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was Bucky’s words and how sincere he sounded that made your head spin. Your heart was racing and your palms turned cold. You wanted him back too, so bad but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. He broke your heart and your trust, you weren’t sure if you’d survive if he left you again.

“I can’t continue this conversation, Bucky. I have to go.” You told him and made your way towards the door to the venue.

However, Bucky was quick to stand in front of the door. He had a determined look on his face, one that looked extremely familiar. You were still hurt but couldn’t deny the fact that you too, still love him.

Even after everything that had happened, Bucky still owned your heart.

“Bucky, can you please move? I want to go home.” You said and tried to reach for the door knob but Bucky moved and leaned against the door.

“You need a password to get through.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’re way too old for this, Bucky. I’m not playing with you.”

He shook his head, “I’m not playing either. Give me the password or else we’d be here the entire night.”

You huffed out, “This isn’t funny. Let me through.”

Bucky shrugged, “No can do. Like I said, I can do this all night.”

You deadpanned, “What’s the hint?” You asked with a defeated sigh, knowing well enough that there was no way you could walk past him without playing along with his stupid little game.

“Consists of three words.” Bucky said.

“Penis boobs vagina.”

Bucky cackled, “And I thought you said we’re too old for this.”

You groaned, “I’m serious, Bucky. Just let me go.”

“No. I made that mistake once and I’m not doing that again. I love you. And I promise that this time, it’ll be different. I know you still love me too, so again I am asking you to take a risk and say it.”

Bucky said it with conviction and you hated how it made your stomach flip. Up until this day, Bucky had a way to make you fold. And he could still read you.

“I’m not saying it, Bucky. How sure are you that I still feel the same anyway?” you asked.

Bucky tipped his head towards your neck, “Not sure if you just forgot but you’re wearing the promise ring as a necklace.”

Fuck. Of course, you’d forgotten about it. You may not have been wearing it on your finger, but you still continued to wear it. It meant a lot to you even after the break up, so much so that you couldn’t simply throw it away or remove it. You figured that it might be better to keep it around your neck. Out of sight, out of mind but still there. You wanted it to exist, it was a part of you.

“Say it and I promise that you won’t regret it.” Bucky insisted.

“Promises are meant to be broken. You proved that the night you broke up with me.” Your voice quivered when you said that.

“And I want to make it up for it for the rest of my life.” He reassured.

“History repeats itself. I don’t think I can deal with it again if you realized the second time around that you don’t need me. Buck, you really hurt me.” You said, voice cracking before you could even finish your sentence.

Bucky quickly took your face in between his hands and for some reason, it felt right. The warmth of his palm, the love in his eyes as he gazed at you, it felt like home.

“I know and I hate myself for it. So fucking much. But I promise you, it wouldn’t happen again. I fixed my life when you left, realized that you were right. I’m better now. So let me be the fixer this time, let me be the one to fix this mess, to pick up the pieces. Because I’m just as afraid to let you go again. I can’t do that again. I love you and I need you. I always did.”

The kiss he pressed on your forehead caused your walls to crumble down. All of a sudden you were sobbing into his arms and apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you then, Buck. I didn’t know, I’m sorry too.” You cried.

“Shh, no. Please don’t apologize.” Bucky coaxed as he pulled back to kiss your tears away. “None of this was your fault, baby. It’s all on me. Let me make it up to you, please?”

The term of endearment made your heart flutter and as much as you hated how Bucky easily won you over, again, the love you have for him was quick to outweigh it. You knew you shouldn’t have given in to him just like that, but this was Bucky. He was your greatest love, someone who owned your heart even after he left.

“I miss you, baby. Couldn’t fathom the thought of you being with someone else.” Bucky admitted as he hugged you tightly.

“I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. I hated myself for hurting you. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

His hand rubbed circles against your back, helping you calm down after your breakdown. He swayed you from side to side, pressed kisses on your crown and whispered promises that he was sure he was going to keep and you basked in it. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your face into Bucky’s neck and inhaled his scent.

He smelled the same, like comfort and love and trust. You hugged him tighter and smiled into his skin and mumbled, “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, “You got the password right but I don’t think I’m letting you go just yet.”

“Nat and Sharon’s gonna kick our asses if they find out.” You chuckled.

He pulled back and stared at you lovingly, “I’ll take the hit for you.” he laughed.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled again, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Forgiven.” You told him and stood on your tiptoes until Bucky bent down to meet your lips in a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss. Four and a half years of pain and anger all gone and replaced with the love you always had for Bucky. His lips against yours made you dizzy but in a good way.

It felt right, like this was how things were really supposed to be.

You pulled back and sighed, “As much as I want to stay like this, I’m really tired.”

Bucky let you go but took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m driving you home tonight.” He said.

You smiled.

“And the next night. And the next next night.”

Yet again, Bucky proved himself to be worthy of another chance. Because he drove you home the next night, and the next next night. It went on until he regained your trust back and all was well enough for him to finally reveal the black velvet box that he had been keeping in his pocket since the night of your eventful reunion.

“You need a password to see what’s inside.” Bucky grinned up at you as he bent down on one knee.

You chuckled through your years, “Any hint?”

“One word, three letters.”

You wiped away your tears with a smile followed by a subtle nod.

“Yes.”

Bucky kept his promise all along, he really did put a ring on your finger. Took quite a while with plenty of obstacles that caused its delay, but a promise fulfilled nonetheless.

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