#at least pecan is with her. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phasecornnuts · 9 months ago

Note

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

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

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats.

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat.

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies.

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned.

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead.

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking.

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer.

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.”

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

“Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.”

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego?

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off.

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair.

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had.

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

“But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space.

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.”

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him.

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad.

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him.

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you.

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.”

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you.

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip.

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow.

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together.

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody.

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.”

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide.

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered.

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?”

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things”

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath.

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood.

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers.

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again,

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.”

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again.

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.”

And so he did.

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce.

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears.

The last part was what sent him over the edge though.

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come.

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon.

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking.

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully.

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.”

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh.

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #fanfic request

524 notes · View notes

minimomoe · 8 months ago

Text

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia/yakuza au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

A/N: Keeping my promise and slowly trying to bring my longer fics from ao3 over here. This was a short story that I wrote over the holidays. It's v fluffy and sweet, please enjoy!

Chapter One: Apple Cinnamon Spice

“Thanks for stopping by. Tell your mom I said hey, okay?” You watch the young man leave with a box of cookies and wipe your hand clean. You turn away to tend to the oven beeping in the kitchen, placing the hot racks of muffins on the top of the cooling tray to drag out in the front, then grabbing the bottom trays to put in the out on display. Your glasses constantly slip down your nose and you make a mental note to get them tightened.

You move diligently in and out of the kitchen, the door constantly swinging from your movements, and you don't even notice the brooding man who has been watching you on the other side of the counter for at least a minute now. It isn’t until he moves and blocks the sunlight that is pouring in that you notice his presence and jump.

“Oh my goodness I didn't even hear you come in! Welcome to our bakery! I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” you start, putting on your friendliest smile you can muster up. You push your glasses up again and get a better look at the man. He doesn’t speak, but you notice his sharp features and the side of his lip that has a scar running through it twitches ever so slightly.

“I could start you off with our classic double fudge brownies?”

He stares passively at you, making you falter. “Okay, how about our seasonal treats? We have caramel pumpkin cookies! Or how about our maple pecan mini pies?”

“‘We… Our’,” he says, finally speaking up as you nervously grip the counter. “It’s just you.”

“Is that a question?”

“An observation.”

“Oh.” You take a closer look at the man and see that his hands have scars on them as well. He was dressed in a suit, no tie and had his jacket on, but that didn’t help your imagination to stay rational. Is he a gangster? you think. My god, Ezra, what did you do?

“How about a drink? We have normal coffees, but right now our apple cinnamon spice is the talk of the town!”

“I’ll take one of each,” he grunts.

“What?”

“Make it two of each,” his finger points at the display rack and the display at his knees. “Give me everything.��

“Oh. O-okay. Do you want a drink with that?”

“The one that you mentioned.”

“The apple cinnamon spice latte?” You ask incredulously.

He grunts again and that’s all the confirmation you were going to get. “Can I have a name for this order?”

“…Toji.”

“Thank you Mr. Toji,” you beam at him and his lip twitches again. “I’ll get your order out soon enough.”

You quickly gather all his food, making sure to pick the best cookies and sweets you can find but still feel like it wasn’t good enough. You had filled up three boxes with treats before you finally completed his order, and then rushed over to make his drink.

“Make it real hot for me,” he grumbles behind you. You look over her shoulder and nod, but it doesn’t get another response out of him. You ring up his order, absently pushing up your glasses, waiting patiently for him to pay. He hands you a roll of cash and your eyes widen in surprise.

“That’s way too much, sir. You only owe me 61.75.”

“Share it between you and whoever is supposed to be here with you.”

“It’s just me,” you grimace. “I can’t accept this. However, I can take $61.75.”

Toji stares you down and you can feel your resolve crumbling beneath his gaze. Despite having green eyes, Toji’s were dark and unwavering. You weren’t sure how long you were stuck in his staring contest but he finally relents and hands you a single one hundred dollar bill from the roll.

“Can you break this then?”

“Yes! Yes, I can do that,” you grin and hand Toji back his change, your fingers slightly brushing over his own.

“So cold,” he murmurs and his eyes flicks to yours. Toji takes in the roundness of your face, your big brown eyes that seemed even bigger through the lenses, your full dusty pink lips. Your hair was held in a low bun under a hair net, but he would see a few curls springing through the holes, vying for escape.

“Hmm?”

“My order?” He juts his chin out to the boxes and you scramble to get them for him.

“Right. Sorry! Please, come back soon!” You wave him goodbye as he leaves, watching his broad frame disappear into the street. When you can no longer see him you release a deep breath, deflating behind the counter, all the stress from the interaction leaking out of you.

“I really hope he doesn’t come back again,” you whisper to yourself, but you only have a moment before somebody else walks into the store and your smile stitches itself back on your face.

Down the street Toji finally gets in his car and closes himself off from the nipping cold. He glances at the boxes of treats in the passenger seat and wonders what he would do with them. He doubts that Megumi would like them when they meet later today, so he would have to drop them off to the white haired freak he works with. He sighs and looks down at the scalding cup in his hand. He takes a sip and grimaces from the taste.

“This is liquid fucking sugar,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop drinking it slowly through his drive. Toji figures he can continue to go to the bakery until he finally gets something that he likes.

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

#minimoe #momowritings #black fem reader #x black reader #jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk fanfic #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #kid megumi #sukuna ryomen #nanami kento #gojo saturo #minimomoe

285 notes · View notes

chococara25 · 27 days ago

Text

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #fix it fic #thanksgiving #911 abc #tevan #both of them deserved better #I might write it out and post it

103 notes · View notes

bardic-inspo · 2 months ago

Text

A Little Treat

(with their cheeks all flushed)

Pairing: Astarion x Evelyn (Named Tav)

Rating: Mature

Key Tags: Sweet, soft, (candy) corny established relationship fluff, Astarion being mischievous

Summary:

How could she say no when he kissed her so hungrily? When he darted away not moments after, muttering excitedly beneath his breath about thread and tulle and silk? It’s the same reason she’s been talked into and out of so much else: the man is a menace.

Evelyn and Astarion celebrate Harvest’s End. Astarion has a trick up his sleeve for his dearest treat.

A/N: For my dear friend @nyx-knox as part of a fall server exchange <3 Evelyn, the lovely named Tav in this fic, belongs to Nyx. I hope I did her justice! Occurs sometime after the final battle with the Netherbrain, and/or in a dream if it better suits Evelyn’s story. :)

I have no idea if Halloween exists in Faerun or not, and I decided not to look it up! So we’re calling it Harvest’s End instead!

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Evelyn shivers, rubbing friction against her bare arms for meager warmth. The autumn breeze bites meaner than Astarion ever would. But he’s to blame all the same; after all, he’s the reason she’s wearing nearly nothing, at nearly midnight, out in lantern-lit streets of Baldur’s Gate.

At least she’s not the only one in such attire. The streets brim with a menagerie of costumed celebrants, all seemingly dressed as courtesans. Or at the very least, dressed as monsters, fairytale characters, and heroes who all moonlight as courtesans. Evelyn’s eyes drift over a woman in a scaled, glimmering gown. She must be a mermaid. She trembles like the fallen leaves do as the wind rustles through her slitted skirt.

Their eyes meet unwittingly. Evelyn can’t help a small chuckle of empathy. The stranger returns Evelyn’s warm, knowing smile. ‘Tis the season for showing skin, even in the cold.

Despite the late hour, the Gate is awake with boisterous laughter. Bards strum jaunty songs in every square. Every tavern’s doors are propped open to accommodate overflowing crowds. The chill is battled back by the cozy scents of pecan pie and apple cider wafting from the windows. Carved pumpkins line the cobblestones, aglow with orange candlelight.

The whole city celebrates Harvest’s End in the same manner each year. This year, Evelyn meant to celebrate it with Astarion. She still means to. She carries on down the avenue, slowing to a stop just outside the high shrubbery of the haunted hedge maze. Shrieks mingle with the giddy giggling of the stumbling passersby, but Evelyn doesn’t so much as flinch.

She scans the rosy-cheeked faces for one that’s ghostly pale. A handful of times, she catches the flutter of a dark cape. But each time she looks up, her hopes are punctured by the decidedly fake fangs protruding from some stranger’s mouth. Dejected, she heaves a soft sigh. She can’t even conjure the will to laugh at the poor would-be-vampire that found his temporary teeth anchored in an apple, caramel glistening sticky in his beard.

Her vampire still hasn’t found her. Or rather, she hasn’t found him. The sorceress was supposed to meet him somewhere in this vicinity, about a quarter before the witching hour. Familiar chimes echo across the city, heralding its arrival.

Gooseflesh wakes along her naked shoulders. The chill seeps between her breasts, nearly spilling from the lace corset cupping them tight as a lover. But where in the hells is her lover? A small frown tugs on her lips. He wouldn’t be so mean as to stand her up now.

Not like this, with her cheeks flushed apple red. He wouldn’t.

…would he? He hadn’t been keen on coming from the start. She’d had to talk him into it. And in so doing, Astarion talked her into this.

“What’s this?” Astarion’s chin settles against Evelyn’s shoulder.

She grins to the soft feel of his mouth against the slight point of her ear. For a moment, he’s silent as he skims the piece of parchment held in front of her. She’d seen the flier by chance out in the market and taken it with her on her way back to him.

“Ugh,” he groans. His hands wrap her waist, squeezing her as if for comfort. “A costume party? For Harvest’s End? How utterly gauche.”

“It’s a pretty common tradition,” she snickers.

“Exactly,” Astarion grumbles. “It’s common. A masquerade is a far more elegant and dignified affair. Something far more suitable for us saviors of the city.”

Evelyn’s smile fades, golden eyes glazed in thought. “It could be fun to do something common. Something normal. Not much has been, since the tadpoles. Even after them. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”

She can feel his scowl growing against her neck. Petal-soft lips lay the gentlest of kisses there. Her eyes flutter shut.

“That sounds like a good thing, dear,” he murmurs darkly. “Something better to forget.”

Evelyn blinks, worry creeping into her thoughts like a dark, drifting cloud. She turns in the circle of his arms, palms laid against his chest.

“What?” He asks, eyes narrowed against her scrutiny.

“Is…is Harvest’s End something you want to forget, Astarion?”

He huffs, his shoulders rolling with his eyes. “I just don’t care to see all the little morsels running around with their tacky, dull little fangs and syrup for blood. I lost count of how many costumed idiots my siblings and I snatched off the streets while they were stumbling home from some tawdry tavern after a night spent pretending to be a monster.”

Evelyn’s eyes widen. “I--”

“I’d much rather remember it with you,” he rasps.

It’s the way he looks at her that steals her breath. That heady warmth in his eyes, as if they were bathed by a hearth. As if in her, he sees the safety of walls and a snapping fire. A shelter from the cold. A place of treasured memories. Of stories told, and laughter shared.

A home.

It’s the look that does it. But the crush of his lips could’ve had her sworn off of breath for an eternity. Her mouth melts against his, and she wishes their embrace could last just as long.

When he pulls away seconds or hours later, Evelyn’s head swirls. Her stomach swoops, as if buffeted by a sudden fall. The feeling drifts down into a lightweight sense of serenity. Evelyn can summon a tempest at her whim. But if she’s a storm, Astarion’s the eye of it.

She lets out a long, contented sigh, hardly fazed or surprised when the fond gleam in his eye sharpens with cunning.

He grins. “On one condition.”

Evelyn tilts her head, mirroring his mischievous smirk. “Just the one?”

“I’ll be making our costumes,” he says, his smile growing smug. “You’ll see yours the night of the festivities. And you’ll see mine when you find me there.”

“Deal,” she says at once.

How could she have hesitated? How could she say no when he kissed her so hungrily? When he darted away not moments after, muttering excitedly beneath his breath about thread and tulle and silk?

It’s the same reason she’s been talked into and out of so much else: the man is a menace. A heartbreakingly handsome, smooth-talking, smarmy little menace. And she loves him with every fiber of her being.

Evelyn glances down at her ensemble, shuffling her feet sheepishly. At least it has pockets. Astarion made sure of it.

“Hey! Soldier!”

A familiar voice calls across the crowd. Evelyn looks up to see Karlach making her way over. Their eyes lock, and the tiefling’s widen.

“Hey, Soldier!” Karlach drawls, grinning. “Looking sweet enough to eat, I see!”

Evelyn offers her friend a half-hearted smile in return. It’s the sort of quip Astarion could make if he were here. Probably the exact line he had in mind as he laced the corset with candy pink ribbon, and frosted it with the soft crush of cream brocade along the top. The ruffled fabric sparkles with little pastel crystals, sprinkled into the folds. A dollop of the same brocade swirls atop her headband, topped with a felt cherry. Her skirt is a short puff of delicate tulle, glistening with a sugary shimmer.

My little treat, she can practically hear him croon.

Karlach’s costume isn’t so threadbare; Evelyn can only just see her friend’s eyes past the open jaws of the dragon’s head helm the tiefling wears between her horns. The ceremonial plate she dons is practical, though the same scales look heavy, laid along her tail.

“Let me guess,” Karlach snickers, “you’re--”

“Stood up.” Evelyn sighs, arms crossed.

“What? No, Fangs would never! He knows he’d hear from me about it if he did!”

Before Evelyn can utter a word in edgewise, she hears another familiar voice muttering a slew of frantic, mangled curses.

“Gale?” Evelyn tilts her head, watching the wizard stumble out of the opening between the hedges. He shoots a wary glance back over his shoulder, shuddering. “Are you all right?!”

“GAH! Ah, ah, it’s only you two! Mysta’s swirling skirts,” Gale gasps, cowering. He picks his way over to them, eyes down, sheepish.

Karlach gapes at him, incredulous. “That gods awful haunted maze has the Gale of Waterdeep quaking in his boots? The same man that faced down the Netherbrain? Are you feeling faint? Feverish, maybe? Should we fetch a cleric?”

“It’s precisely because of our prior exploits that I know the difference between fear and farce. And I’m quite alright, thank you. My heart’s only racing faster than it has since we were fighting for our lives.”

Gale huffs, fixing the black, pointed ears protruding from his slicked hair. Evelyn decides not to tell him his whiskers are smeared across his cheeks.

“Come off it,” Karlach scoffs. “I spun through that maze earlier and it was nothing but a laugh. If I didn’t crack up, I would’ve been crying about what a sad excuse it is for a scare.”

Another scream lights the night. But that’s not the noise that snags Evelyn’s ear: it’s the pitchy, breathless bark of a laugh that follows. That feels familiar.

“I’ll give it a try,” Evelyn shrugs.

“Don’t say you weren’t warned,” Gale says gravely. Karlach blows a raspberry back at him in response.

Their bickering is swallowed by the shrubbery as Evelyn steps through the spiderwebbed archway into the maze. Smoke furls across her feet, clouding the sight of them after only a few steps. The bushes rustle in a sudden flurry of movement. She tenses.

Clawed hands burst through the branches, grasping fruitlessly at empty air filled with moans and groans. They’re meant to be zombies, but the growls are shrill, and the hands, small and harmless, save for a wicked-looking hangnail. Evelyn muffles her laughter, dodging nimbly.

She takes the next turn, and then another, until the rumbling of the alleged undead dissolves to the leathery flapping of bats. Her eyes dart upwards, snagging on the dark flash of motion overhead. Her spark of excitement snuffs as soon as it came, her shoulders slumping. Surely they could’ve found some sort of caster on the streets who could do better than this shabby pair of kites passing as bats. Gale could have, had they not apparently terrified him so.

Evelyn heaves a soft, restless sigh. Karlach was right. This maze isn’t anything special. And perhaps she was a fool to think Harvest’s End could’ve been. She can tell by straining on her tip-toes that she’s nearly at the heart of the hedges.

And then, her heart skips like a stone across a pond.

A sharp, startled cry bursts through the bushes. Blotting it out is that laugh. It’s a full-bodied cackle. Devilish. Delighted. Triumphant.

Evelyn hurries towards it.

At a fork in her path, she takes the route past a gushing green cauldron, around a bend to a patch of false graves. Panting, she pauses, soaking in the scent of fresh-turned earth, and the names etched on the tombstones: Here lies Rigg. R. Mortis, Diane Rott, Rusty Kauphyn, Claire Voyant…

It brings a rueful smile to her face. She can’t help but think of another graveyard, filled with other names, one of them etched into her heart as much as his tombstone. Maybe Astarion would hate this farce, even with her. Maybe she shouldn’t have urged him to go. Maybe--

Fluid movement seeps through her periphery, a shadow spilling over the moonlight. By the time she glances over her shoulder, it’s gone. The small, stone gazebo up ahead looks as lonely as she feels.

But then, she hears it again. A soft chuckle this time, buried beneath a bated breath, tumbling like the dried leaves do down the dirt path. As if in a trance, her limbs moving of their own volition.

Evelyn follows the sound home.

She gets as far as the yawning arch at the steps when her hairs stand on end. She’s greeted by a low, rolling growl. It thrills through her, swirling sweet, tantalizing static over her skin. If she had to guess, it’s the same sound that scared Gale shitless.

Evelyn merely clicks her tongue, peering about the gazebo. “I looked everywhere for you.”

“Look up, love.”

With a shake of her head, she does. She finds him beaming down at her with a warmth to rival the sun. Astarion sprawls beneath the domed roof, braced there effortlessly. He’s far too tickled with his newfound ability to spiderclimb. It turns out such a talent comes naturally to any well-fed vampire spawn.

Whoosh.

The backflip down was far from necessary. But the hand he braces against the small of her back, and the other that hitches her knee against his hip, that’s all that’s keeping her from falling. Evelyn gasps out a giggle as he dares to dip her deeper. The graveyard sways upside down in her view: a sky full of tombstones above a sea full of stars.

“My, my,” he purrs, breath tickling her neck. “What’s a delicious thing like you doing all by your lonesome?”

“I’ve been waiting.” Evelyn drawls with a grin. “Waiting since the moment I first saw you.”

“Hm,” the soft huff of his laugh tumbles down her collar as he pulls her upright. And now that you have me?”

Blood rushes from her head, the scent of him swimming through it: the sharpness of rosemary, chased by the softness of bergamot and the richness of brandy. Astarion’s eyes flutter shut briefly, pulling in a long, satisfied breath, and pulling a blush to her cheeks with it.

Abruptly, Evelyn’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t dress up!”

“No, I didn’t,” Astarion croons, unrepentant, eyes alight with mischief. “I thought you deserved the real thing, darling.”

Something real. The sentiment is a sweet one. She’s still giving him shit for it, though.

“And you thought you deserved a treat?”

Astarion arches a brow. “Isn’t that the whole point of this holiday?”

The cool hand on her back wanders lower. With it, he wakes a heat across her skin, resilient even to the chill on the wind. She can’t help the needy noise that leaves her lips as he cups her ass and reels her body flush with his. She can’t help but tilt her head back at the mere tease of his teeth.

“I know it’s not my birthday,” he pouts, lips lingering where her pulse flutters against her neck, “but after all, what’s Harvest’s End without a graveyard smash?”

A/N: Divider credit for pre-story divider to @firefly-graphics. Scene break credit to @strangergraphics. End banner credit to @saradika-graphics. Credit to a cursory google search for some punny tombstone names!

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #tavstarion #astarion x tav #evelyn hale #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #tavstarion fluff #astarion fanfic

96 notes · View notes

psalacanthea · 9 months ago

Text

I'm doing that thing again where a random scenario is showing up in my modern AU fic and I have to think of everyone's preferences so: BG3 companions, ice cream edition.

Wyll: The only man alive who gets an ice cream cone and somehow never drips. He loves a good quality vanilla, but likes it with additions, like a handmade fudge ripple or butter pecan. Will eat an ice cream cone with a spoon, confusing everyone.

Karlach: She wants to go to the place where they mix in shit in front of you. Gummy bears and pretzels. Red hots candy and caramel corn. She's inventing flavor combos you've never heard of. Also likes the blue bubblegum ice cream.

Gale: Ooh! Well, since you're asking, he knows a wonderful place a scant thirty minute drive away that makes their own handmade ice cream. He's been known to indulge in a pint or two...perhaps with a nice glass of wine! Toppings? Well, that would ruin the experience.

Shadowheart: She goes to the same place as Gale, but she hoards her pints in her freezer and you're not allowed to touch them. They have a dark chocolate raspberry she's obsessed with. It's hers, though. You can have a bite. Just one. Fine, you can have another bite.

Lae'zel: She goes to the fast food drive through, orders a chocolate sundae, and leaves. If their ice cream machine is broken again, they will pay the price. Will climb through a drive-through window to fight your manager.

Astarion: Goes to the trendy, insanely expensive restaurant, orders the thousand dollar gold leaf covered, smoked white truffle and whisky ice cream dessert, takes a picture of it for his instagram, and leaves without paying by climbing out the bathroom window.

Minthara: She will take two scoops of chocolate ice cream. Nothing more, nothing less. If you fail to deliver exactly what was ordered, she will have your business destroyed on Yelp. Her prowess on Yelp is legendary. Sometimes Astarion helps her make video reviews of restaurants. She has millions of views, adoring fans, and has no idea.

Halsin: He'd prefer something else for dessert, but he's already here, so...maybe a scoop of pistachio on a cone? Will get distracted and end up with it dripping all over his arm. Whoops! Now everyone's staring at him while he licks his own hand.

Jaheira: She prefers a pastry, but fine. She'll let you know once she's tried every sample at least once. Hmm. Not bad. And...you know what? Never mind. She's full now. Thanks for the samples.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #companion headcanons #Gale of Waterdeep #Wyll Ravengard #Shadowheart #Astarion #Minthara #Halsin #Jaheira #Karlach #Lae'zel #Lae'zel will fight you in the parking lot of a taco bell #Astarion will be filming it

208 notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 1 year ago

Text

A door that’s slightly ajar (and then, I opened them all up)

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM Yunjin x Male Reader

Word Count: 8939

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Of course, it's the down bad days for me, again and this time, I've been wanting to write something like this, like a student-like fic and here we are! I absolutely love writing this and creating up with titles like this—I really do!!! Also, big thanks for @majorblinks for beta-reading and making some corrections to my mistakes! Thank you so much! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy this fic and see you until the next time again! <3

-----------------------------------

It's just another normal day of the week, is it? Yes, it is, and you're tired of it. There's nothing you can do either, unless, doing a significant change that will probably make the day more interesting. Yet, what change can you make? You can't even have one, at the moment, so you'll be back on this redundant day, again.

Thank god that your class dismissed early, and that uplifted your motivation of making that “change”. It was on a Saturday too, maybe it explains why your lecturer feels drowsier than usual—I mean, he already looks like that all of the time but whatever.

You kick your shoes, got your things packed on your bag on a quick two-hour discussion as you rushed your way out, going straight to the cafeteria so you could buy and eat your favorite chocolate-pecan flavored cookies there—and honestly, you don't really spend that much money on miscellaneous things, but those cookies are maybe worth dying for.

You drool in the imagination of it, and you can't wait to taste those.

*something thuds*

You're subtly startled by that sound. There's no ghost (you don't really believe in such, too) nor your friends trying to prank the living life out of you as maybe, you just speculate those are just those reckless students doing whatever they're doing.

“These people…”

Maybe it's because of Saturdays. Weekends are pretty much the busiest days at your end even though it's the time where people set themselves to rest—there's so much contradiction that it outdid itself more than an oxymoron.

Such unnecessary thoughts shall go and fade away, in your mind, at least. Why are you even overthinking about this? Too descriptive? Well, maybe, it's a yes but there's something more descriptive, and that's when you opened your locker, full of those damned textbooks you aren't even bothered to read. Why does it even exist anyways?

Too busy. Too unbothered. Too focused—

“Hello, baby.”

You shout at the sudden figure startling you, almost dropping your textbook and your folder full of your seatworks in the process. You then put them onto your locker and shut the door lock, then averted your unwanted eyes towards the girl in front of you.

“W-What do you want, Yunjin?”

Huh Yunjin. Yes, that's her name and it's classy whenever she gets called “Jennifer”, her English name. She's one of the most popular girls on the whole university thanks to her clever and smart mind, her pretty face and her personality, and her specialty, her ways of captivating the hearts of guys and gals with her charm-filled flirting and here you are, standing right beside her—

“You.” She pokes her finger onto your chest, talking about you and you only.

If this is just one of her games you're sick and tired of playing, you definitely have no time for this, especially since you know how much she'll want to seduce someone under her spell.

“Yunjin, I have no time for this, okay? If you have someth—”

“Why not, hm? Then tell me why you're frequently looking at me in the lecture earlier, baby.”

And yes, you're mostly in the same class with her. Even though maybe it's written in the stars that you're both destined to be in the same class with each other and to top it all off, it’s even with the most stressful subjects known to man. Even with her being an ultimate nuisance—the bane of your silence—there's still a positive side of this: her ability to make everything interesting. Yes, you stole glances with her earlier—then wait, if she knows about this, then she's looking at you often then—

“Then how would know that without stealing glances to me too—”

“Answer my question, baby…” Yunjin whispers to your ear as she extends her right arm, pinning you against the metallic locker behind you and her other arm reaching for your necktie, her eyes burning with desire and lust as she demands an answer escaping from your lips, right here, right now.

“Come on, baby. Answer me—”

“Is it maybe just a coincidence, Yunjin? Get off me—”

“Nu-uh, baby. You can’t escape me.”

Yunjin’s seductive voice never fails to bring you weak, onto your knees as it feels eargasmic to hear, her saccharine tone almost leaving you defenseless. Her firm grip onto your necktie leaves you vulnerable to her and there’s also no way you can escape her, and even if you wanted to and if you were successful, she’ll try her best to catch you. What does she even want from you, anyways? Why would you experience this treatment of hers instead of the other guys on the campus? Why even you?

Well, as much as you want to keep asking yourself those kinds of questions, there’s only one way to find out what she really wants: finding the answer yourself.

“Then, w-what the fuck do you want from me, Yunjin? Can’t you j-just do your thing to the other guys at the campus? Why even m-me?”

Well, if she would help herself on resisting you, she may—

“No—” Yunjin closes her face dangerously towards yours, just inches away from kissing you but you won’t let her. Her minty breath captivates you even more as her tone is the cherry on top—the mixture of sultry of sweet best describes it—but you won’t let yourself fall under the spell of this slut—

“Come on, baby. Don’t you want me, hm?”

Of course, she’ll lure her prey into the abyss of no-return (into the unknown depths of lust) and will get to her desired promised land. She’ll do everything to get what she wants and it even starts right now: her hot breath brushing off on the crook of your neck as she kisses the soft skin right after, letting your defenses crumble down in shambles as she’ll do what it takes to be hers for the time-being.

“I’ll make sure that you’ll never forget this day and…” Yunjin peppers your neck with passionate kisses as it’s not enough to leave a mark, yet enough for you to feel her immediate need for you. “I’ll let you do anything to me, baby.”

Is she really talking about this? Is she for real?

These thoughts linger in your mind as the last sentence turns you on. You know how this may end with Huh Yunjin—you getting in trouble as she gets away with an unscathed and clean record because of her mother being the president of the parent’s organization of the university and… you absolutely hate it. Yes, it’s unfair and you curse yourself on what could happen but how could you deny such a hot girl like Yunjin? Her pretty face, captivating eyes, her plump, kissable lips, her hot figure, spankable ass—there’s just not enough time on how perfect she can be and if you were to be asked, you can’t help but be attracted to her.

Yes, it may sound hypocritical but you meant what you said, or at least, what you thought. Giving in to your desperation and desire, you utter an almost inaudible answer that raises Yunjin's attention towards you.

“O-Okay, Yunjin…”

“Okay what, baby, hm?”

She continues peppering your neck with kisses that drive you insane. Her body is incredibly close towards you and you can't help but moan with the emanating heat she's making you feel.

She needs further clarification—she wants to hear what you really want and possibly, saying it with your heart out, like, you really meant it.

“More, Yunjin, please…”

Desperate pleas can't go unanswered as Yunjin wasted no time talking but rather in a form of latching. Latching in a way her lips suckled onto the sharp collarbone which earned a moan for you as she knew exactly what you wanted all along—and it's like you won't give in to that damn temptation.

“Like that baby? Like how my lips just… pepper your smooth skin full of kisses, hm?”

“Yes—ahh…”

A soft moan fuels the fire of desire inside her. It was never new but something felt different and new at her end, but she brushes those things off as she averted her whole focus on marking you and kissing you all over.

“I love it when you moan for me, baby. Gladly, we're only getting started.”

Her fingers trace your pristine skin and up to your lips as she shut your moans, not letting any sound escape from it.

“Well, let's up it an ante, shall we? I'm getting to know you a little more, baby~”

A little seduction is spicy and you fell for the trap that you'll absolutely be grateful of. Between the plethora of all of the possible things she can do to you, she wants only a single thing for now: and that's to feel how soft and good your lips taste, and especially, how they feel onto hers.

Latching her soft lips onto yours, you immediately reciprocate the kiss in probably less than a millisecond and you cherish it in every second possible as her lips are insatiable and tastes incredibly great. It was splendid and passionate, and you couldn't ask for more but the derivation towards lust makes you want more of it—rather, more of her.

Fuck foreplay—that is probably you, right now.

You're not a big fan of build-ups nor teasing as you're incredibly impatient and it's proven to be tested right now and probably, you despise it—it's also maybe the fact that you're down bad for her at this moment. It's like you can do something to reach for climax immediately as you're deemed powerless, being captivated and allured under her spell, the animalistic urges inside you craving for more but you couldn't, yet. She'll let you drool over her and that only, for now. She's insatiable and you can't wait to get past the rising action.

If you think about it, it's probably better like this before the main course as you can't help yourself from getting aroused from Yunjin's advances.

“God, you taste really good, baby. Is it your first time getting kissed on the lips, hm?”

“N-no…”

You stutter and she giggles. She finds it rather cute that a man like you gets feeble around her and she smiles on that fact. It's even better because of the fact that you can't do anything to retaliate against her actions and she knows you won't.

“Liar, hehe~ I bet no one kissed you, or—this fucking good, hm?”

Her stern tone turns you on more than you can imagine as she demands an answer yet the serenity of her voice contradicts the devil—the venom laced between her words of lust and greed.

“Y-yes…”

“Say my name, baby.”

“W-what?”

You're genuinely confused why would she need you to call her name—oh, maybe because she wants to know how much you love her, how much you love her stupidly-hot acts towards you. Her fingers then unbutton the first layer of your uniform swiftly and with you being so oblivious, you didn't notice how she's slowly undressing you.

“W-what do you mean, Yunjin?”

“There you go, baby~ Hmm—mwah. That's for being a good boy, hihi~”

A quick peck on the neck as she hears her name once again escaping from your lips. A quick peck as a result of her wants being attended and letting you know how much she loves this moment. You’re utterly confused but you don’t care—you want her now and no one’s stopping you from that.

“You know, baby—” Yunjin’s hands caresses your back as she feels the heat radiating upon the foreplay that’s happening, and that makes her smile genuinely. “—let’s do this somewhere private, y’know?”

A casual giggle involuntarily caused by her captivating actions escapes her lips. You know where this will be ending and you waste no time leading the way, already miles away, reading her mind.

“I'll lead you to the bathroom then, Yunjin.”

“Then do, baby~”

She then offers her hand gently as you insist on holding it slowly, leading the way to the bathroom. Once you got there, nothing held back as the unstoppable force met the immovable object—both of your lips crashing onto each other, exchanging sloppy kisses towards each other as she moaned from your aggressiveness.

“Mmph, baby—ahh! You really, really kiss me so good~”

“Not really, you do, Yunjin.”

Yunjin blushed from your heartfelt compliment as you did feel the heat within your cheeks, painting it rosy-pink as you find the kiss so incredibly hot and passionate that you can't help yourself but let the tiger inside you to be unleashed.

Unleash the beast, as a famous saying says (it clearly reflects what you’re feeling right now) and without containing the ferocity inside you, you unbridle it. Wasting no second, you connect your lips her onto her again, exchanging the sloppiest and the most lustful kisses imaginable and as time advances, there goes the dancing of your tongues, fighting for dominance.

“God—getting so messy with me, baby, hm?”

“Can't help that you're so fucking insatiable, Yunjin.”

She tugged onto your necktie once again as she pulled you towards her, whispering to your ear seductively as it's also enough to send tingles down your spine.

“I feel the same too, baby. You make me feel so good, it's insane~”

The adrenaline inside you is making you unstoppable right now as you can only imagine the possible fantasies of yours coming true, and you can't simply wait to do everything with Yunjin.

Every. Single. Thing.

She's also cognizant of what will happen next, possibly and surely…

“Ahh—ahh! Baby, right there~ Yes!”

You then latch onto her neck and collarbones, suckling onto the porcelain skin of hers as it's maybe enough to mark her. Her inevitable moans came loose, her sinful releasing the long-shackled lustful cacophony of sex-filled sounds that she can't contain anymore—

“Like it, Yunjin?”

“I fucking love it, baby. I love it when you mark me like you really own me—god, yes!”

She's giving into submission and she inevitably will, slowly, and surely. That's your goal right now, and you'll show off every trick up in your sleeve just to get her into that.

A door is close, way too far and nigh-impossible to reach.

A door is slightly ajar, try to reach it, and eventually you will, then you'll open one and will open more.

It'll be a domino effect—starting from a single one then will possibly try out everything you can think of.

The door will suddenly close, yet you'll already think of the fact that you've seized those opportunities.

And you'll start right now.

“I want more, Yunjin. Wanna see more—wanna taste more of you.”

Yunjin has that look—that slutty, desperate look of ardor in her eyes and the way it sparkles with lust and anticipation—yes, it's perfect.

“Getting daring, aren't we, baby? Ahh—keep kissing me first. Let them know how much you love it and how much you're mine, baby~ Oh fuck!”

“No, Yunjin—I want more of you, right now.”

Crazy how a sexual desire drives a man into his lowest—a deceitful strength; a vulnerable spot; his cock doing the thinking, and not his brain. Getting daring, you slowly coursed your hands onto the side of Yunjin's plaid skirt, caressing it as you slowly undress her bottom half, wanting to feel and see those meaty thighs—those thighs you've been drooling with since the start of this.

She moans loudly in response to your actions, so, to tone her down, you immediately crash your lips onto hers again—probably for the umpteenth time—as she reciprocates, now feeling her and tasting her. Your insatiability towards her is imaginable, so you immediately pull out and lay down to slowly undress her skirt as it came in, right after, is a work of art: her smooth, pristine thighs on your sight as the white panties being the cherry on top.

“God, Yunjin—your thighs are so—”

“Tasty? And probably, meaty? Yeah, I know, baby. My thighs are all for you to worship and kiss. Hmm—ahh—now, please—let them know how much you want them.”

She read you. It's probably like the first thought everyone will have in their mind once they see Yunjin's thighs—they can relate to you if they were in your shoes but luckily, you're the only one who's having her at this moment, no one else.

Here lies your needs. Onto the hunger of kissing the milky flesh in front of you, you immediately do what must be done and waste no time. Peppering her thighs with pecks in quick succession, plethora of lewd moans came right after—and it's like she's giving herself to you of her own accord.

You continue peppering and worshiping her thighs with kisses and marks and because of how you're making her feel too good, she can't help herself but hold onto your hair, scalp-deep as she needs an outlet to fight the sudden rush of pleasure.

Her succulent flesh is way too irresistible to pull out as her moans even encourage you to go further, but you wanted to experience more things with her and kissing her thighs for a hot minute and a half is enough to fulfill one of your wants.

“Baby kissed my thighs so good, hm? Love how delicious my thighs taste, hm? The sweat dripping out slowly and probably—hngg—m-my juices too, hihi~”

“Isn't it obvious, Yunjin? I'm fucking drooling all over these.”

She didn't need to ask honestly, her deep, captivating tone in her voice just sparks the fire within you and it just drives you crazy. It's an obvious yes as an answer to her question, and there's no hesitation in that.

“I want yours too, baby. It's unfair that you drooled all over me and I won't drool over anything about you~ Come on, baby~”

God—it's her seductive tone that really gets you riled up. You just want her whispering to your ear every damn day, teasing you and more—oh, it'll feel like a dream yet technically speaking, you're already living in that fantasy of yours.

As clever as she is, you undoubtedly know what she means by that so, positioning yourself to lean against the cubicle wall, she kneels down slowly, ready to unbuckle your defenses down to its last straw. She looks up at you seductively, her eyes glistening in need and lust as you caress her cheeks and encourage her to do more.

“Mind doing the honors for me, Yunjin?”

“Of course, baby~ You got me so fucking needy for you. I'm dying to taste this dick, baby.”

Noticing the inevitable bulge tenting onto your pants, she smirked at the sight that she made you like this and slowly undressed your bottom half how you did hers earlier. One by one, every piece of clothing is now deemed worthless as every defense is being unshackled and when it's only the last one left, she licks her mouth, getting ready for what you had in store for her.

In one swift motion, the beast inside is now unleashed from its genuinely frustrating restraints as it's rock-hard, almost hitting Yunjin in the face and already dripping with that infamous colorless liquid.

“God, w-wow… You're so big, baby~ I wonder if it can fit inside my mouth, hihi~”

Her puppy-like eyes curiously studied your length, right from your engorged head up to your swollen balls as she admired every inch of you and she leisurely stroked you which earned a moan that escaped from your mouth.

Sure, the wholeness of your dick will fit inside her tight, slutty throat. Not to mention how much she drooled all over your length once you've revealed it and by that, you could tell how much wonders she could do with it.

“Tell me, Yunjin, do you like what you're seeing?”

An unhesitant nod from her as here comes her seductive voice again—

“I do, baby—I fucking do—mwah!”

There starts the slow, passionate kiss on your already swollen head as she plays your leaking slit with her tongue, also, in accordance with the rhythm of her strokes on the base of your shaft. She kissed your mushroom-shaped head so lovingly, it caused you to moan her name alongside with ragged breaths as the sensitivity is way too much to handle.

“Moaning my name, baby? I can tell—you're loving this already, hihi~”

You nod, and that's enough as an answer to her question.

“T-Tell me, Yunjin, what do you want to do with my cock?”

She did hear you, but instead of answering you, she just doubles the efforts of kissing your length from the base up to your swollen tip. You don't like this so, you grip her hair forcefully slowly, demanding an answer escaping from her slutty, cock-hungry lips.

“I w-want to choke on it, baby.”

“And?”

“Want to gag and drool all over it, baby.”

There's definitely more—

“Want to take this cock deep down so badly that I want my throat ravaged by it.”

More—

“Want you to fuck my face with it as I struggle to breath while you do t-that to me, and then, you'll thrust your hips so hard that you're only goal is to destroy my slutty throat for my throat is only a cumdump for you, baby. Or, you can pull out and start painting my face with—”

“Stop.”

“—it…”

Fear emanates her eyes as she's flummoxed about your sudden command towards her.

“You d-didn't like it, baby?”

“No, Yunjin—” You reposition yourself comfortably and lean yourself against the wall again, preparing for what's about to come. “—I'd rather see you do those things you’ve said rather than talking. Be my guest.”

She immediately fulfills what she'd said as constant licks and slurps reverberate around the puny cubicle you're in. She drools all over your cock, worshiping it with numbers of kisses to god knows how many—she just can't get enough of the succulent taste of your shaft.

She's maybe not the most experienced one in your opinion, but surely, she's making you feel great as her plump lips makes your brain go haywire in pleasure and it’s like it’s really made of cock-sucking. Sucking on your head gently, you moan and grip her hazelnut-colored streaks, an outlet to fight the constant course of pleasure.

“God—so fucking good, Yunjin. So so so fucking good—argh! Take me all in—s-shit!”

With your inevitable groans and subsequent moans, she takes this as fuel to up the ante of her pace, bobbing her head vigorously as she takes now half of your shaft, her saliva leaking out slowly on the side of her mouth. The liquid then drips down to your balls which she averted her attention too, not leaving it unattended.

She lathers it with her saliva as she sucks on one ball gently, making sure she's not hurting you in any kind as her aim is to stimulate you further and with her moderate rhythm of her strokes and the gentle care of attending your needs onto your balls, it's impossible to hide how good you're feeling—way better than you expected.

Gently and surely, she doesn't give you a break on the constant serotonin you're feeling. Having enough of your balls, she then goes onto doing the thing she's best at as the slurping sounds resumes and so is the constant gagging that keeps resonating around your ear. Having had enough of the slow stuff, she bobs her head frantically like she has something to prove to you as she went deeper, her throat welcoming the entirety of your length as she gags again in response—her gag literally echoing around the restroom as a hint of panic hits you as someone may barge in to know what's happening, mostly those janitors. Tears inevitably begin flowing down her cheek, messing up the mascara she had on—and it's just better seeing her getting ruined slowly.

Eventually, she pulls out as oxygen is to blame, her gleeful smile meeting you as she still strokes your shaft at a snail's pace.

“You l-like that, baby? You like h-how my tight throat constricts when your head hits the back of m-my throat, hm? You like how good I made you feel?

“S-shut up, Yunjin—do more of that and less talking, okay?”

“What a tsundere… Hmm—mwah!” Yunjin peppers your swollen head with numerous kisses as she continues her dirty talk that sends your arousal higher than the sky. She didn't mind how hypocritical your response is because all that matters is that she did a great job at pleasuring you and it's evident and you can't lie with that.

“Don't you dare lie in front of your teeth, baby—I know you liked it so much. I could even hear you moaning my name repeatedly and wanting mo—”

Well, that's another way to shut her up, for now…

If your words can't shut her slutty mouth up, then maybe taking your cock once again will do. It's really effective, considering how she struggles once you thrust your hips into her throat, making her gag and hum in satisfaction. In every thrust you do, she welcomes it in her tight cavern with open arms as she grabbed your hips almost-so-tightly in order to have stability while fucking her face. The pace quickens immediately, bringing in an onslaught of thrusts in a rapid succession which she enjoyed—she's maybe struggling considering how harsh you're using her throat but you didn't care as your pleasure comes first, and she even enjoys it too. After two minutes of a hot, sloppy (the saliva seeping out of her mouth are in copious amounts) facefucking, she tapped your thigh as she's visibly lacking oxygen and immediately, you pulled out of her tightness.

She gasps for air, struggling to breathe as it almost feels like you ravaged her throat completely. She smiled towards you, coughing a little as her mouth was used like a fleshlight, most likely, a cocksleeve in her (possibly yours too) own terms. She feels like a toy whose only purpose is to pleasure his master and no one else and she absolutely loved it.

“Oh f-fuck, baby. You used m-my throat so well, hehe~ Now, you gotta finish what you've started i-in my mouth.”

Sticking her tongue out just to invite you to fuck her face again, you fall in under the spell of lust as you insert your length inside her mouth again, and suddenly, the pleasure courses down your veins as the warmth of her throat envelops and welcomes your cock like in a warm embrace.

You're reflecting as you fuck her mouth mercilessly. You want to save that energy for later—

“Actually, Yunjin, just finish me off. Suck me like you fucking mean it, you slut.”

And off she goes, fulfilling your desires. You could feel that familiar sensation down your loins even earlier, and it's not even that far off now as your orgasm is nearly coming.

Look down as the hazelnut-haired girl bobs onto your penis like she means it—like what you've said—and you let it all out. She feels the persistent throbs of your length inside her throat as she plunges her mouth balls deep, her nose pressing onto the base of your shaft as you fill her cavern up to the hilt and welcoming another side—using it as a canvas for you to paint on. Series of hot, thick semen deposits inside her mouth, painting her throat like you have something to prove—to prove how much she's yours, maybe, just for this moment. Spurt after spurt, she closes her eyes as she feels the incredible volume of your load and the succulent taste of it—she can already feel how much your seed tastes good as her taste buds involuntarily chase the flavor of it, like it's her favorite dessert to indulge in anytime.

After your orgasm dies out (it lasted for at least twenty-two seconds, estimated, since your brain went haywire because of the pleasure), you pull out of her mouth and see streaks of her saliva and your cum as your length becomes lathered by it. Yunjin, as the clever girl she is, cleans your cock without being commanded to do so as she licks all over it, sucking and slurping all over the conglomeration of liquids and gathering it all. For one last time, she pulls out and gathers all of the cum that she can and sticks her tongue to show you how much your load is, and then, swallowing all of it within a single gulp and then showing to you her tongue again, smooth and clean as all of your seed is now into her stomach.

“Gosh, baby. That was so fucking good. That was like, the most delicious load I had ever tasted—god, I wanted more of it.”

If she wants another one, then she needs to earn it like a good girl yet, the both of you had more plans with each other, and it feels like a magnetic connection—the both of you suddenly read each other's minds on what the both of you want.

“I want more of you, baby—like, way much more… Like, I want to feel you, baby—deep inside me. ”

Well, here we go—

“But baby, I'll let you choose though. Consider this as your luckiest day as you'll get to feel me, hehe~ It's either you wanna fuck me senseless while you rail my tight, little cunt or—” Yunjin slowly takes off her panties, giving you an unholy sight of her holes, which made your cock twitched involuntarily—she's way too fuckable at this moment and too hot to handle. “—you could shove your entire length up in my ass and finger me until I cum uncontrollably.”

These choices are way too tempting and of course, more difficult than ever. You wanna feel her tight cunt clenching and possibly, creaming—which is probably not hard consider how wet she is right at the start—around your shaft while you fuck from behind but also, you can’t let the opportunity fade of fucking her tight asshole and fingering her pussy, all at the same time.

Well, there are also second-hand thoughts within those choices: is there any lube whenever you made your choice on fucking her ass—

“Don’t you worry, baby, I have my lube here, in my uniform pocket.”

—and is no one going to know all of the sinful events that are about to happen within the next few minutes?

“And baby, no one’s gonna know about this as you know how I can get out of things like this. My mother has power and authority in this university so you, and I, will be safe from any trouble, hihi~”

Well, that answers anything you’ve been afraid of…

“So, what is it going to be, hm, baby? Come on—” Yunjin slowly seats onto the toilet (and of course, it’s been covered since the beginning) and spreads her legs wide slowly, presenting her already dripping cunt and her puckered hole, tempting the devil inside you. “—don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Takes you several seconds before coming up to a decision that you’ll surely won’t regret.

“I’d love to fuck you from behind, Yunjin.”

“On what hole, bab—”

“Both of them, your pussy first—”

Well, she’s caught off-guard and perplexed by your sudden need and aggressiveness as you grab her wrists tightly, and then turn her facing the wall. The lust and greed already consumed you and there’s no one stopping you, not even her as you can easily overpower her without breaking a damn sweat.

“I s-said only a single option, bab—”

“No, no, no, Yunjin. That’s not how the games are going to be played—” You spank the creamy flesh in front of you as it jiggles in response, you then smirking as the downfall of Yunjin’s control ensues—herself submitting into pure submissiveness that you dearly wished to see.

“—I’m the one who’s in fucking control now, Yunjin and don’t tell me you don’t want all of your holes stuffed with only my cock, hm?”

“N-no…”

“No what, Yunjin?”

You gently gripped her neck, choking her as you force an answer to escape from her lips. Such a demand is needed immediately, and you don’t want to be a part of Yunjin's games anymore and you want to show her what exactly you can do to her.

“G-god—I—what I m-mean is that, no—I won’t s-say anything like that b-because this—is—ahh—what I wa-wanted all along!”

“Good.”

You loosen your grip onto her neck and avert your fingers across her clit, stimulating and teasing her and not-so-surprisingly, she moans seductively as the pleasure is starting to get into her and you love seeing how she’s drowning in need—you should’ve done this in front of the restroom’s mirrors, so you can see her ahegao-like expressions that surely, will arouse you further.

“You like that, Yunjin? Like how I make you a whimpering mess on my fingers, hm? Wow, you’re drenched and so fucking wet.”

“Y-yes, baby, I like—”

“Wrong fucking word, Yunjin.”

And then, that hits her, she realizes that she can’t do anything but be the good, submissive toy for her—

“Daddy. I’m very, very sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl—you clever girl, hm?”

You tease her more and more, earning the sexiest of moans escaping out of Yunjin’s mouth as she pleads you to fuck her already but you insist, letting the carnal desires inside you be tamed, for now. You wanted to get her as wet as possible—not to mention how wet her pussy is already, nectar dripping all over her thighs and staining her socks—so you do just that.

“Really want to feel me, huh?”

Another harsh spank to her bubble butt marks it red, enough for the sting of pain to be felt until later as it echoes around the tiny cubicle. You can't wait to feel her tight walls as her desperation and pleas ignite the fuel inside you to resist the temptation and with her continuous pleas to let her out of her misery, a flick of a switch is all it takes as you take her in.

Her velvety walls hug your shaft so tight that you groan in half-pain, half-pleasure—it feels like her pussy walls constrict so hard that its life probably depends on it. With how wet she is, it isn't any hard thrusting in and formulating a pleasurable pace as you form a moderate rhythm from time to time. Her moans were just inevitable too, alongside her chants that were probably part of the symphony of a lewd orchestration of sounds.

“Fuck me h-harder, daddy! I want it rough s-so what are you waiting f—”

A slap on her butt probably lets her know how you're now in control, and not her yet you think to yourself that you need to destroy her cunt to teach her a lesson. A mere adequate attempt from her for you to play rough with her almost sends you into overdrive as she lures you into the deepest abyss of lust. Even if you deemed her attempts futile and ineffective, you're just saying to yourself how hypocritical you are.

You wanted to ruin the beautiful image of Huh Yunjin, letting everybody probably know how much of a slut she is for cock—

“Don't you fucking worry, Yunjin—I'll pound you so hard and fast that the only thing you'll feel is my cock ravaging your tight, little hole and nothing else. Heck yeah, I would maybe even make you forget your own name and the last thing you'll actually do is beg for my mercy while you can't take it anymore—because I'm going to fucking ruin you, Huh Yunjin, the school's slut.”

Letting out the profanities and the devil inside you, you work your way into making her for you to ultimately use. You waste no times in build-ups as you pound her tight cunt like you're proving something to her—proving how worthy you are to probably own her pussy and how good you'll fuck her throughout this session.

You ram into her hard and fast, letting your animalistic urges take over your body as you didn't stop even a slight second. The clashing of both of your bodies becomes so frequent that sweat is beginning to form onto your forehead and to your back, considering how hard you're fucking her brains out like you're rearranging her guts.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy! You're so deep in me! Keep f-fucking me until you make me a creamy mess! Oh fuck, daddy~”

She moans uncontrollably with every thrust you do into her and she tries to silence it by biting the clothing of her uniform but it wasn't enough. And it's like she can conceal how much of a slut she is for your cock—and there's nothing she can do either.

She clings onto anywhere she can just to have a greater grip on what's ravaging her pussy. Another attempt of silencing her moans is futile, so you grab her locks, pulling it slowly onto you to let everybody know who she really is.

“You l-like how I fuck your pussy like this, hm, Yunjin? I bet no one fucked this good in your entire life. Let the whole university know how much of a fucking—slut—you are!”

She responds in guttural groans and lustful moans as you drive her insane with your cock—her mind only being flooded about sex, and maybe that only.

“Oh god—daddy, I'm so close! Please let Yunjin cum, please let me cum—cum, cum—I'm cumming!!”

A spank delivered to her backside by your naughty hands is the indication of—

“Then cum, Yunjin—all over… my cock…”

“Gah—ahh!!”

And there she goes, letting everything out as her visceral moans broke the tow, and off she goes, creaming all over your throbbing length like a broken faucet out of control. You want her to take a little breather, so you slow down your thrusts while riding her beautiful orgasm out that lasts for almost a hot minute (roughly like thirty-five seconds but that'll do).

“Now, it's your turn, daddy, hihi~ Cum inside me, please!”

You resume your frantic thrusts and ignore her wants of filling her pussy, aiming to achieve your high too and chasing it as fast as possible.

You definitely want to finish inside her tight, little cunt but a sudden hit of reflection made you think of another option (and also by the fact that a slut like her wants to be bred and you don't want to finish inside her while she's not safe).

She's too spoiled, anyways. With that possible privilege, now is the time to break the tow and maybe, you'll be the first to do it.

“No, Yunjin—” You whisper onto her ears and immediately, and even so, painfully pull out of her pussy as she wails, wanting you to fuck her hole until you ride out your high but you have other ways on settling this mess. “—I'm going to fuck your creamy thighs until I cum, okay? Now, it's up to you to catch all the cum with your hands to taste it or let it go down in waste as I paint the cubicle walls white.”

She definitely wants that idea, for sure. You can sense it even though you can't really see the emotions on her face—she's way too readable now, and there's nothing she can do to let her wants be attended to, either.

“Daddy's going to fuck these meaty thighs until I cum, okay, Yunjin?”

“Yes, daddy! Please do fuck my thighs—you're still going to fuck me from b-behind, daddy?”

“Yes, Yunjin, and I hope you're prepared.”

She's even more than prepared as you position your throbbing length between her thighs, she then anticipating what's coming next. Her thighs suffocate your cock for dear life and thanks to her wetness dripping down the meaty flesh and also the wetness of your cock due to her own fluids, it wasn't difficult to thrust and hammer between her immaculately perfect thighs.

Thrust after thrust comes moans and groans from you as she hugs your entire shaft tighter than ever, making sure you'll get the utmost pleasure you'll ever desire. Not so long, you're now starting to develop your pace frantically as your hips go wild as the lust drives you into oblivion—the will of greed powering every thrust to chase your nearly-impeded orgasm earlier.

Of course, the inevitable comes closer than you expected.

“I'm so close, Yunjin—fuck! I wanna just fuck these thighs all day. Argh, so fucking close—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Cum for me, daddy, please!”

It feels like another dormant volcano erupts, sending magnitudes of pleasure all over your body as peak euphoria is achieved within an exhilarating act. Multiple streaks of semen splutters from your slit—probably up to four, if you can count it right—as Yunjin tries to catch it all but all she can do is cling onto the walls . She is unsuccessful in catching the wholeness of your load but manages to capture a little and with her hunger for your taste, she licks the little amount clean on her fingers, humming soundly as she's satisfied to taste your load again.

“Never fails to amaze me, daddy. So delicious, as expected, hihi~”

She then strokes you slowly, not wanting your hardness to die fast as there's more things to do with her. She knows how painful and sensitive you feel right now and her dainty fingers and dexterity of it aims to get you hard (even though you're definitely rock-hard towards her, still) for her as the last course on the menu is nearing. At least she's a bit concerned about what you want to feel, and also concerned with her own pleasure too.

“Now, daddy—” Yunjin faces you as both your eyes make contact with each other, sparkling with anticipation and greed. She then made the first move as she thought of something that has been lingering inside her mind since you started fucking her almost senseless. “—you said something earlier about fucking my ass and I was thinking that, maybe, you can fuck me while I see your face, daddy. Don't you love the thought of it?”

Of course you do love it and she doesn't need to ask that. You love how lewd her expressions are—even though you can't see it but deep in your heart you know that her face does those expressions inevitably—while you fuck her like it's your last and the pleasure converting her face into pure submissiveness and lust. Also, to top it all off, you want to do something that for sure, will make this experience more than memorable, written down in the history books of your life.

“Of course I do, Yunjin. I'll hammer your ass hard like what I did to your pussy—I'll gape this tight, little asshole so hard that you'll walk out here wobbly and struggling.”

“Then you'll need to carry me out here, daddy. Fuck me until my legs give out—give me everything you got, daddy.”

The sensitivity fades faster than the speed of light as Yunjin's dirty talk reignites the fuel of lust inside you. Handing you the small bottle of lube in her pocket, you lather a decent amount on your hand and spread it onto your cock. You then command her to bend over in order to have a greater grip in spreading the lube around the rim, and the tight walls of her asshole. She lets out a ragged breath and a moan as the cold liquid comes into contact onto her puckered hole. You continue lathering her asshole with lube and warming her up until she breaks the silence.

“Daddy, I h-have something to confess to you…”

“What is it, Yunjin?”

It takes her several seconds to respond as the pleasure of teasing her asshole with your fingers is getting over the limit of her nerves to handle—it's maybe too much to handle but she never insists you to stop and you won't.

“My ass, hasn't been fucked, yet—and y-you're probably going to be the first one who will open me up in my other h-hole…”

A bold confession to a girl like her is a bit surprising as it feels like she already experienced a lot more than what you could imagine but that expectation falters once it's factual that she still has her anal virginity—you can hear the sincerity in her voice.

“B-But you've experienced this before, Yunjin? Like with your toys and stuff?”

A hint of sweat drips down your forehead as you're a little bit nervous considering that maybe, it is really her first time experiencing a phallic object will be taken up in her ass.

Even though you're driven mad with lust, there's still heart in you and concern came first.

“Yeah… Only a couple of times with a dildo but it never really felt the same but now—” Yunjin holds both sides of your arms as her eyes ignite with seriousness, wanting you to fulfill her needs by feeling your length up in her ass for the first time.

One thing's for sure before you make a move: she'll be tighter than ever, and even may rival the tightness of the gripping walls of her pussy.

Knowing how well-lubed up her rim and your already throbbing length are, you waste no time and impale Yunjin's incredibly tight asshole with your rod. Even with just the mushroom-shaped tip inside her inviting hole, you can't fathom how incredibly tight she is. She eases up her muscles for both of your comfort and slowly, and surely, you insert your length into her deeper and deeper, the lubrication really helping out a lot.

“It s-still feels a bit weird—but anyways, fuck me daddy! I c-can take it!”

“Really, Yunjin? You sure?”

A broken melody escapes her lips and interrupts her moans, “Yes, daddy—please just fuck my ass… I c-can take it.”

And who are you to refuse that? No, you won't and now having a better grip of her ass—and thanks to her anal muscles easing up and helping you fight against the incredible vacuum-like tightness—you start thrusting into her, slowly and delicately, cherish every second of fucking her incredible ass. You spank her buttocks hard as a moan from hers is the response, the moan of need and lust as she smiles almost maniacally at you, feeling euphoric from the experience.

As much as you want to see her get fucked with her uniform still on—because it's one of your fetishes—you want to see what she's packing underneath that white blouse of hers. You then immediately latch your hands on the buttons of her uniform, undressing it slowly and thankfully, Yunjin doesn't care and wants to get herself naked for you, letting you see what she has in store for you and you're probably going to drool with the sight of that.

Like a prophet, you did predict your own actions almost accurately as undressing her final defense, which is her white-laced bra. With her sheepish expressions maybe because of your possible disappointed judgment, you reassure her as you are met with a perky set of her mounds with taut pink nipples that you're ready to drool over with.

“Sorry if it's not too—”

“You're not sorry, Yunjin—” You up the ante of your pace of hammering her ass as you fondle the soft, pillowy flesh in front of you, making her moan in ecstasy as everything seems going perfect for her.

“—in fact, I love it so much—mwah—wanna suck on these all night, not gonna lie—fuck, you're incredibly hot, Yunjin.”

“Gah—ahh! Daddy! T-thank you for that. You make m-me feel so good—so, so good, daddy!”

With your frantic pace of thrusts inside her tight hole, you can't help but moan soundly as it feels way too euphoric to be true. Latching your tongue lightly onto her erect bud, she moans in delight, and it is so hot that it keeps you going. You also want to stimulate her so much that you want the dam inside her to break, and considering how she's been touching herself since the start of your anal session, she'll get on her euphoric high in no time.

“Gah—daddy, I'm going to fucking cum! So, so much—all over you, daddy!”

Announcing the nearing peak of her orgasm, you fuck her gaped hole like an animal in intense need, letting the lust and your ultimate will inside you power your hips to do the fastest, most uncontrollable thrusts known to man. Your urge to destroy her asshole and her asshole only is indomitable as the devil inside takes over you, plowing her ass like it's your last.

You're close and she knows it well considering how much you're throbbing inside her. She knows this and that's why she helps you chase your own orgasm too and hers, wanting to cum with you in unison.

“I'm close too, Yunjin—I'm going to fucking cum balls deep inside this incredible ass of yours—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Me too, daddy—cum with me, please!”

And there goes everything.

The rush of adrenaline through your veins soon comes to an end and so do your thrusts. You buried down your entire length inside her walls, filling her up to the hilt and the goal has now been achieved: filling her absolutely with thick shots of semen, painting her insides white.

It is euphoric rearranging her guts to the fullest. Groan after groan comes spurts of your load being deposited inside her ass as her moans encourage you for more and so you do. Yunjin herself reaches her high as she sprays her nectar all over your toned abdomen as she comes harder than earlier, leaving her breathless and enervated from the wildest session she had been. After your orgasm has died out, you then slowly pull out of her—and she's still oh-so-tight even though she has been gaped like crazy with your actions—to see what you've done—to see what you've become: a monster, blinded by lust as every drip of white leaks out slowly, out of her asshole. She then reaches for her metallic buttplug and inserts it inside her puckered hole slowly as she doesn't want the cum dripping out of her thighs after she walks out of here—she's still in public, so that makes sense and she doesn't want to get embarrassed.

You filled her well. Too well. She's going to feel that load until later.

Not wanting the moment to die so fast, you initiate another heated kiss with her again as she immediately reciprocates, letting her know how much you loved this moment and how you'll cherish this, forever.

“God, daddy—you still filled me up so well… I'm also sure, you're completely drained, right?”

“Yeah, Yunjin… *coos* I'm way too drained—thanks for this, though. It felt very euphoric—and good. Thank you…”

“No, baby—I need to thank you. You made me feel like this and I never felt this before—like, this felt enchanting, meeting you…”

You faintly smile and face her, blushing from her remarks. You then kiss each other for the last time, wanting to savor the built-up need and lust for this one moment, once more. With a little panic making your heart skip a beat, you then help her prepare herself and yourself, cleaning what you also could so no one will suspect all of the sinful events that happened inside this cubicle.

“I could barely feel my legs though, baby...”

“Oh no—will you get in trouble for that, Yunjin?”

“You'll need to carry me out if here, baby—that's what it means, hihi~”

Panic courses through you as you're shocked on what she said, not prepared on what she's really planning.

“I'm kidding, baby—I can still walk though. I'll just make up an excuse that my feet just feels painful suddenly. Neither of us will get in trouble, don't worry.”

You then slowly unlock the cubicle door, making it “vacant” and then, open it. Yunjin kisses your cheek one more time as a token of gratitude before smiling at you genuinely, her eyes speaking words of being thankful for such an incredibly euphoric session.

“Oh! Before I leave—give me your phone, baby.”

“I d-don't have it on me, right now…”

You know where this is going and you don't want this opportunity to fade away. You frown in disbelief of your phone being nowhere near you as it's on your locker yet with a clever mind like her, she opts for another option, also, not wasting this opportunity.

“Do you… have a ballpen though? Like... any kind?”

That, you do.

Without any time to waste, you give her your black ballpoint pen as she grabs your hand gently, going to use it as the canvas.

“Hope you don't mind this, baby and… there you go! That's mine, okay? Text me when you get home, okay? I'll be gone for now and… thank you, again—so, so much, baby. You may leave after me for like—uhm… a few minutes so no one will suspect what we did here, baby, hehe~”

And you're now captivated with her. Who are you to blame though? A girl like her will make any other men go crazy but in this moment, she's the only one you see and so she is. You loved this moment and so she did too, and that concludes another exhilarating yet memorable day for you.

You seized every opportunity you had with her at that given moment, and you're glad that you've opened them all up.

“Bye, baby, see you tomorrow—or… maybe later, hihi~”

What a day written into your own history books. It truly is and you wanted more…

#le sserafim #huh yunjin #le sserafim smut #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin x male reader

917 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 5 months ago

Note

Ooh for the microfic promot what about bucktommy “ice cream on your nose”

Oooh, nice prompt! 😆 Enjoy! 🥰

Ice Cream on Your Nose

It wasn't exactly planned. Chim and Maddie had something important come up and Buck had, of course, said yes to watching Jee-Yun for a few hours.

Of course he would.

There was no way Buck would say no.

And, while he and Tommy had a date that day, well, Tommy seemed over the moon to hang out with Jee too.

Tommy always spoiled her.

He really did.

Tommy let her have whatever she wanted in the fridge within reason. He let her pick groceries at the store and won her stuffed animals and let her onto his shoulders every time she wanted up.

Tommy was spoiling her now.

Tommy (and Buck, really) had folded and agreed to go to the ice cream parlor a few blocks away from Buck's loft.

And.

And she was adorable. They were adorable as Tommy lifted Jee-Yun up to show her the flavor selection.

"Your favorite is Rocky Road? What?" said Tommy as Jee-Yun giggled.

"You knew that already," said Jee-Yun, which was true.

This wasn't their first ice cream run. All the same, Tommy played innocent.

"I don't know. I think you got mint chocolate chip last time," said Tommy.

"No, you got mint chocolate chip last time," laughed Jee-Yun.

"You sure you don't want that too?" asked Tommy.

"Rocky Road," demanded Jee-Yun before she added the most angelic little, "Please."

And this was spoiling.

Spoiling her sweet.

But neither of them seemed to be able to resist her as Buck said, "A scoop of rocky road for her. Mint chocolate chip for him. And, uh. Butter pecan for me, please."

"Wonderful family you have," said the girl making the cones for them all, "You three are always so cute whenever you stop by."

"He's just the fun uncle," said Tommy, smiling.

"You're the fun uncle too," announced Jee-Yun and - and it took Tommy by surprise.

Genuine surprise. He didn't seem to know what to say. And Buck could see the worry of overstepping and the joy Tommy had in hearing that warring in Tommy's eyes.

"Yeah. You're the fun uncle too," said Buck as he grabbed each cone and handed them out.

"Up. I want up. Please," said Jee-Yun, which was a terrible idea; Jee was a bit of a messy eater, but.

But Tommy didn't mind.

He brought Jee-Yun up onto his shoulders as they walked back to Buck's apartment.

And.

Immediately, ice cream was dripping on him.

Into his hair.

Onto his nose.

He was an ice cream crime scene and Jee seemed to revel in that.

"You - you got a little - " Buck said gesturing to Tommy's nose.

Tommy laughed, wiping it off.

"Well. At least you own a shower," said Tommy, not all that mad.

"Yeah, Uncle Tommy. I own a shower," said Buck softly as they made their way home.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy microfic #tevan #kinley #the ally and the beast #tooth rotting fluff #my fic #Ice Cream on Your Nose #asks

76 notes · View notes

lil-ms-darkness · 3 months ago

Text

Crumbs - Bigby Wolf x Fem! Goldilocks! Reader [Part Seven]

The sunset behind her illuminates the apartment as Bigby examines her closely. The way her hair is tightly pulled back rather than gently gathered, the strain in her jaw, and the darkness under her eyes. She blinks in confusion as she looks at him,

“Sheriff? What’re you doing here?”

“It’s been a couple weeks and nobody has seen you come out of your apartment, so I figured I’d bring food.”

“I- uh, thank you.” she steps aside to let him in, more confused by his sudden visit than anything. He steps inside and she closes the door, following him through the small entrance hallway and into the rest of the apartment.

He glances onto the kitchen island, where he spots the accumulation of her baking. He gets a whiff of fresh baked pecans and dull baked-in brandy. His eyes follow his nose, spotting a pie resting on a mesh-metal dual platform he assumed was for cooling multiple pies at once. He tears his gaze away and heads to the love seat, setting the bag of food on the pony wall. She watches him, not moving but he can tell by her body language that she’s getting antsy.

“I didn’t know what you like, so I just grabbed you orange chicken, rice and some veggies.”

She nods and, after a moment of hesitation, makes her way over to him, sitting down on the love seat as he skillfully fishes out the white temple paper boxes full of inauthentic Chinese food. In his time in Europe, he’d found Chinese food to be his least favorite, not by any fault of their own. They certainly enjoyed their delicacies, and prided themselves on their cuisine, as it is a part of their culture. The multitude of spices were delicious to other Fables, but to his wolfish tastes, he preferred pork with the slightest bit of chicken hearts, if any at all, too many spices were overwhelming. Of course, ever since Snow cut him with that knife, he’s been able to adapt his tastes to blend in mostly, and get him by in the Mundie world. Even so, this was most definitely not authentic Chinese food, it’s as processed as the McDonalds around the corner.

He hands the blonde woman two of the containers and a fork, then grabs his own. He doesn’t miss the excessive bounce of her leg, or the way she repeatedly switches which leg is crossed- left over right, right over left, left over right again.

“What have you been working on?” he asks, pretending to be interested in how the crinkled piece of wanna-be steak clings to his plastic fork.

“Orders.” she says without looking up, and his eyes look her over. She’s spotless for having been hard at work, but he can smell the salty must of sweat and the way the buttercup curls stick slightly to her temples confirms it.

“I thought most of your orders were completed.” he probes

“I wanted to get a headstart,” he doesn’t miss the subtle edge to her voice. “Please stop beating around the bush, why are you here?”

“I was checking in on you, like I said, nobody has seen you around for a while.”

“So the Fabletown Sheriff is also responsible for performing wellness checks?”

“I have a lot of responsibilities, but yes, making sure Fables don’t kill each other is one of them.”

He watches her mouth open, tremble for a moment, then close tightly. She wanted to say something, but it seems she thought better of it. Looking from her face back to his own dinner, he caught a look at her own container, she hasn’t eaten any of it. Before he can ask if she has eaten already, the oven beeps. She stands, setting the takeout on top of the pony wall, again and makes her way to the oven. She slips on her mitts, reaching inside and pulls out the fresh pie. Even from where he is, he can smell warm caramelized sugar, molten blackberries and hear the crackle of the cooling crust on top. She slips the fresh pie underneath the first pie, eyes lingering on the pie on top.

“Whose order is that? Seems like you aren’t happy with it.”

For a moment, he doesn’t think she’ll answer and only intends on remaining transfixed on the pie, but she surprises him with a response.

“It was Woody’s favorite. Brandy Pecan Pie.” he watches her lips tremble again, eyes fluttering slightly with tears threatening to spill over, but she swallows and takes a breath, looking over at him. “Did you want a piece?”

“I’m not much of a sweets person,”

“Please? I know you and Woody didn’t really like each other, but I don’t want to eat this pie alone. I’ve managed to keep the tears away for a while, but if I’m alone eating this…” she pauses, and snorts quickly, looking down and tucking her chin against her chest, as if laughing at the absurdity of what she was asking of him. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have made it.” she reaches down, now cooled enough to touch the pie tin, she grabs it with both hands and walks to the trash can.

He has only a second of shock before he’s on his feet. He clears the small distance, grabbing her hands just in time to force them not to let go. She lets out a startled noise and looks up, eyes wide.

“Don’t throw it away just because it’s a painful memory.” he holds her gaze and can see the pain behind them. He tightens his hold on her hands, momentarily before she lifts it, and only then does he let her hands go to watch her set it back on the island. She leans against the counter, gripping the edge until her nails dig into the wood underside, closing her eyes tightly as she tries not to cry, again. He watches her, unsure of what to do for a moment. She isn’t afraid of him, but does he dare risk a hand on her shoulder? The worst that could happen is she recoils, which he’s used to. Somehow, he has a feeling that her recoiling from him, be it from disgust or fear, would ache like a healing bruise.

He reaches out, tentatively, and rests a hand on her shoulder, anyway. Under his hand, he feels her muscles stiffen, and she looks up at him. Her eyes are glassy, but she tries to prevent them from falling by blinking them away. The hurt, anger and frustration in her eyes raises memories of white fur splattered in red, dripping and muzzles snapping flesh, tearing. Growling, low and menacing, clacking teeth, and the feeling of utter helplessness and the birth of his ambition to become who he had succeeded in becoming.

Without thinking, he moves his hand from her shoulder to the side of her head. Her hair is soft, and the free strands brush his calloused skin gently, reminding him of a faceful of his mothers fur. His hand slides around to cup the back of her head, pulling her forward. She follows, still surprised by his gentleness, until her face touches his chest. She inhales deeply against his white dress shirt, and he can feel her hesitance to touch him back. But when his other arm loops around her shoulders, she sniffles and wraps her arms around his middle, clutching the back of his shirt as she sobs into him. She clings tightly onto him for long moments, soaking through his white shirt with her tears.

He holds her firmly, but doesn’t move otherwise as she weeps. Closing his eyes, he thinks about his mother and all that she deserved, the kindness and love she’d shown him. He remembers what she smelled like after the winter snow, the warmth and weight of her paw, the-

“Sher-iff?” he looks down as she pulls from his thoughts. He hums questioningly as she looks up at him, eyes puffy and pink, nose red and cheeks wet. He hadn't even noticed her crying slow, or feel the hiccups that now wrack her throat and chest. She lifts her hand and gently touches his hair, just as gentle as he had been. “I think I'm hungry.”

He blinks and rolls his eyes, stepping back slow enough for her to let her arms release and return to her sides. He leads her back to the loveseat and grabs her food, offering it out to her. She takes it and sits on the couch, turning to lift her legs up and tuck them into the gap between the cushion and arm of the loveseat. He sits beside her and resumes eating as well, partway through her container of takeout, she gently sets the food down, again, rubbing her eyes.

“Tired?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, every time I closed my eyes all I could see was…”

“I can stay here while you take a nap, if I can use your phone.” she looks up at him, examining his eyes as if she could read him as easily as he can read her.

“You won’t leave?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“And you won’t let anyone get me?”

The sound of hungry maws gnawing on bone drifts through his ears, “No, I won’t.”

She’s quiet, considering it for another moment before she stands up, grabbing her food. She puts it away in the fridge, grabbing her cell phone from its place on the counter against the fridge. Unplugging it from the charger, she brings it back to him and holds it out. He reaches out to take it, and she reaches further forward so that the back of her hand rests against his palm momentarily before pulling back and leaving the phone in his hand. He knows she did it on purpose, but she doesn’t look at him. Instead, making her way over to her bed and sitting down, pulling the hair tie from her hair and replacing it with a different, thicker one? He doesn’t understand, but as she lays down and pulls the blanket over her body, she rolls over to face him, offering a soft smile as she grabs one of the stuffed animals- a wolf. Now that he’s looking closer, the commonplace stuffed bear is nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t have a single stuffed bear, but he isn’t surprised. He doesn’t move, listening to her breathing slow more and more until her heart rate reaches rest and her breathing is slow and rhythmic.

Bigby opens up her phone, not surprised by the fact that there’s no passcode, as she wasn’t even worried about her door being unlocked when they first met. The wallpaper was a picture of Woody and herself years ago, based on the shorter length of hair that hovers just above her shoulders. He thumbs the button of the receiver, and begins to scroll through her contacts, finding a contact for B. Rose, Bo, then Beast followed immediately by Beauty, then Boy Blue which caught him by surprise.

Why would she need Boy Blue’s number, unless she was doing an order for him? He had never commented on expecting an order from her.

He scrolls on, deciding on the irrelevance of his contact being saved. Underneath his contact was the Business Office number.

Cindy, Dr. Swineheart, Jack H., Ozma- Ozma? How did she manage to get a phone number from the witches on the 13th floor? He makes a mental note to go and ask her some questions. The list continues; Rapunzel, Snow, Totenkinder, and Woody.

His eyes linger on the list of names before they drift over to [Y/N] asleep in her bed, then back to her phone. He thumbs the receiver icon and enters the number of his home phone before titling the contact “Bigby Apartment” and then creates a second one for his office titled “Bigby Office”. While it is his job to keep the residents of Fabletown safe, undiscovered, and not dead, he can’t deny that he has a soft spot for the baker.

Walking over to the pie, again, after a long moment of pondering on the case, he examines the crust, closely. The scent of roasted sugar on the fresh pie, the baked pecans of this one, and the melted white chocolate drizzle over some kind of raspberry sweet, he wonders how she doesn’t always have stomach pains being surrounded by candy and sugar.

He pauses for a moment, “candy. . .” he lifts her phone and scrolls through the contacts one more time before calling the Business Office line. It rings three times, then connects as someone picks up the other end.

“Fabletown Business Office.” It's Boy Blue.

“Blue, I need you to dig up everything you can on Hansel and Gretel. And I mean everything. I need you to bring it to me, I’ll give you the address in an hour.”

“Oh, right away, Mr. Wolf!” and the line clicks. He examines the pie, again.

Slowly, her senses become more aware as the sleep recedes and she can smell her empty apartment once more. A hollow feeling remains in her chest, but the clinking of silverware and dishes raise hope in her belly. Her eyes flutter open and she sits up, expecting to see Woody, prepared to push away the pain from a nightmare. But no, it was the Sheriff standing in her kitchen, cutting two small slices from the Brandy Pecan Pie she’d made. It wasn’t a nightmare, Woody was really gone. She frowns and he speaks up from his place in her kitchen without looking up,

“Have a nice nap?”

“I did. Until I had to wake up,” she rubs her eyes and sets her stuffed animal back in its spot against the pony wall. Turning, she drops her bare feet to the carpet, walking around to meet him in the kitchenette. He gently pushes a plate towards her, it has the slice of pie on it. Part of her doesn’t want to deal with this right after waking up, but she realizes that it’s not about dealing with it when she first wakes up, it’s something she doesn’t want to deal with in general. Still, the fact that he had cut it, and now has a piece on a plate for himself made her feel seen and understood. She looks up at him,

“I thought you weren’t a sweets person?”

“I’m not; Woody and I had our history, but he didn’t deserve what he got.”

She examines him, sees the tired and somber look in his eyes, and picks up the fork, taking a small bite from the end of the slice. It’s wonderful, nice and moist on the inside but crumbly and crunchy with the pecans on the top layer. The caramel glaze and the baked flavor made the pecans taste more nutty, giving the overall flavor a sweet and savory cacophony with every bite. No wonder Woody loved it. She opens her eyes, not sure when she closed them, and watches as the Sheriff takes his first bite. He nods his approval, and she feels the familiar swell of pride in her chest.

“It’s really good.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” her voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. She takes in his appearance, the tie he normally wears has been removed and the top button is unclasped, allowing a bit of his chest hair to peek out from between the folds. “What was your history with Woody?”

He pauses, looks at her and lowers the fork a bit. “We lived in the homelands together, like you did.”

“But what happened that caused the tension between you two?”

“I thought you didn’t read other Fables’ stories?”

“I don’t. But I’m asking now to understand more about Woody. More about you.”

He stares at the pie for a long moment, “I’m the big bad wolf, I was doing bad things around Red’s grandma’s place. Woody and I got into it, it wasn’t a particularly good day for me, and it ended with him cutting me down the middle, shoving rocks in and kicking me into the river. We've been going rounds ever since.”

[Y/N]’s eyes widen as he recounts events casually and takes a bite of pie after he finishes speaking. “Oh wow…I can see how that would leave a bitter taste in the mouth. Were you going to hurt Red?” She's not sure she wants the answer, but the question is out of her mouth before she can even stop it.

“I don’t know. It was a long time ago, and like I said, it was a bad day.”

She hums in response, catching onto the clear message that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Did you finish with my phone?”

“Yeah, I put it back on the charger.”

“Thank you,” she sees a manila folder on the counter, underneath her phone.

“What’s the folder for?” she glances at him, curiously.

“I think I have a lead in the case.”

Her eyes become round with excitement, “really? Let’s go talk to them! Maybe we can stop them from hurting anyone else!”

“Not yet, I have to investigate first and see if it all lines up before I go accusing.”

“Who do you think it is? How did you find out so quickly?”

“It’s confidential.” he takes another small bite of his pie

“What?” Her voice comes out more incredulous than she meant it to, “Sheriff, someone I love was just murdered in cold blood and I was the one to find his corpse.”

“I don’t need you going on a revenge mission.”

“Somebody murdered an innocent Mundy woman and glamoured her to look like me to scare those close to me, and I don’t even know if I am really safe, but you’re going to refuse to tell me who you suspect is guilty of the crime for what? Because of the rules in the Business Office that you don’t even agree with? What if they come after me and I don’t know because you didn't tell me who to watch for?”

He examines her, closely, then the crumbs left on his plate. She prepares herself for a scolding, or him to just flat out refuse, but instead, he nods,

“You’re right, keeping you in the dark wouldn’t help. Just don’t go around talking about the case to anyone without me, anyone. That includes Red.” she nods, “I think it may be Hansel, Gretel, both of them, or perhaps Totenkinder has something to say for herself.”

“You think it’s-? But I haven't seen Hansel around in centuries? Isn't he still in the Homelands?”

“Either way, I need to find him and talk to him. Same with Gretel. Both bodies smelled like you, or at least your work, and with their history it could be a possibility.”

“But what reason would they have to glamour a Mundy to look like me or to kill Woody?”

“I’m not sure just yet. But I will figure it out.”

#bigby wolf #bigby wolf x reader #twau bigby #fem reader #mysteries and pastries

45 notes · View notes

writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 1 year ago

Text

First thanksgiving (Kelley O'Hara x Reader)

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but I wanted to write something about it. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it!

I don't know if this is any good and it's barely edited, but I hope you enjoy :)

Combination of these two requests:

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving so I think it would be cute if the player (I don't know who, can be anyone) teach R about the tradition and the foods and maybe R try to cook a family recipe and everything just been cozy and cute!

and

r x Christen or Kelley meeting c or k's family for the first time at thanksgiving, because r isn't a soccer player.

Words: 3.2k

Kelley headed for me as soon as she got home, slotting herself against me and the back of the couch. I had been lying down watching tv, but turned toward her to wrap my arms around her, pecking her lips. "Hi love. How was your day?"

"Long, but could have been worse. I missed you today. How did your interview go?"

I held Kelley closer, kissing her forehead, "I missed you too Kel. I think it went pretty well. They said they'll get back to me after thanksgiving. I'm still thinking about saving a bit more money and starting my own business. I already have a good chunk away."

"If you do, I'll support you every step of the way. I think you'll make a very sexy boss."

I rolled my eyes, pinching Kelley side making her squeal before leaving a lingering kiss against her lips, "Of course you do."

"Hey um talking about thanksgiving. I hope it's okay, but I told my parents about us and they invited you to thanksgiving. So um would you want to come?"

We had been together for quite a while, but our relationship had started out a bit complicated and I was gone the majority of the time so Kelley had avoided telling her family until things were a bit more stable. "Why would that not be okay? If you want me there then of course I will come."

"I know you don't know anything about it or celebrate it, but I would like you to come."

"Then I'll be there."

---

There were ingredients and stuff scattered all over the kitchen, it was a mess so was I, but I was determined to make the best apple pie and pecan pie I could. Despite never making either or ever trying a pecan pie. Kelley said her family loved them so in an anxious, overthinking moment, I had decided to attempt it in hopes of impressing them. Kelley walked in, just stopping and staring at me for a few seconds.

"What are you doing baby?"

"Um well you said your family likes these pies and I'm a half decent baker so I thought I would try. Maybe impress them. I um I'm going to make some small ones so you can try and tell me if I should just throw them out or not."

Kelley wiped some flour off my cheek before pecking my lips, "A bit nervous are we? Babe my parents will love you regardless of if you baked them a pie or not."

"Two pies actually."

"You're really determined aren't you?" I nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed by what a mess I was over this. "Why don't I help you? I've made them with my parents enough to know how they like it."

That help turned out to be Kelley sitting on the counter, talking about random things and constantly distracting me by pulling me in for make out sessions. The only real help she provided was telling me that her family liked more cinnamon in the apple pie and smaller pieces of pecan. If I actually thought about it, I would have realised she was doing it to stop me overthinking so I could actually enjoy the baking process. Of course it worked. Kelley always had a way of making me calm down, of stopping or at least reducing any overthinking or panicking thoughts. Given my time in the military, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

With the pies in the oven and the timer set, I decided it was time to clean up. As soon as my hands entered the water, Kelley's hands covered my face. Though, her hands happened to be covered in flour. "Oh you little shit." I spun around, bubbles in hand, smearing them over her face. Kelley squealed, trying to run away, but my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into me before she could. I rubbed my face against hers transferring some of the flour.

Kelley turned around in my arms, giggling her ass off, "You look ridiculous."

"Love, you don't look much better."

"We could make it worse." Kelley suggested with a smirk, letting me push her against the counter, lips connecting. Kelley ended up on the counter, me standing between her legs as we lazily made out. Since I got back we had definitely been making up for all the lost time. Pretty much every spare minute was spent either cuddling or kissing in someway. When the timer went off, I pulled away quickly, there was no way I was letting these pies burn. Kelley tried to pull me back in with a whine, but I gently pushed her away, "Nope. Get off, I can't burn the pies."

"Rude."

"You love it."

Later that night after the pies were baked and everything was cleaned up, Kelley and I were relaxing in the bath, her back against my front as I ran my fingers up her arms. Kelley had reassured me multiple times that my pies were pretty much perfect and that her family would love them. I only just believed her, but was trying to push my anxiety away.

"So what exactly is thanksgiving? I know you eat a bunch of food with family."

"It's pretty much that. Thanksgiving is a time where you spend time with family, eat good food and be thankful to the things you have in your life. That's the short version anyway and all you really need to know."

"I'm thankful for you everyday Kel."

---

My leg had been non-stop bouncing since we left the house. I had met her teammates a few times, but this was different. This was the first time I had ever met any of my partners parents and ultimately Kelley's parents were the most important. Kelley was the only person I had ever imagined spending the rest of my life with, or actually wanted to spend my life with. For that reason I needed Kelley's parents to like me. I knew she loved me, but she also valued her family's opinions over pretty much anything.

A hand on my knee stopped the bouncing and the lingering kiss momentarily settled the nerves. "Baby, it'll be okay. Just be yourself and my parents will love you because I love you. Stop thinking too much into it and try to enjoy yourself. When you're ready we can go in okay?"

There was no point in pushing it out any longer so I took a few deep breaths and got out of the car before I freaked myself out more. Kelley laced her fingers with mine, squeezing gently as she knocked on the door. Who I assumed was her mum answered the door, pulling Kelley into a hug before inviting us inside where her dad was waiting.

"Mum, dad this is Y/n. Y/n my mum Karen and my dad Dan."

I held my hand out for her dad who took it with a slightly harder than normal grip, "It's nice to meet you sir." Before moving to kiss her mums cheek, "You look lovely ma'am, it's lovely to meet you."

Karen waved me off, pulling me into a hug instead, "You make us feel old with that sir and ma'am stuff darling, you can call us Karen and Dan."

"I made you some pies."

"Oh yes, Kelley told us you did. Thank you, they look wonderful."

I found myself alone with Dan as Kelley and her mum were doing something in the kitchen. Honestly, it was not a position I wanted to be in especially after only just meeting her parents. The anxiousness was bubbling up again, but I did my best to use my training and hide it. Being anxious in front of Kelley was one thing, being anxious in front of her parents was not ideal.

Dan sat across from me on the couch, stern look upon his face. I shifted so I was sitting up straighter, legs crossed. "So Y/n, Kelley hasn't told us much about you. What do you do?"

"Um nothing at the moment," I admitted, quickly realising by the look on her dads face that it probably wasn't the right thing to say. I quickly spoke up again, "I was a medic in the army, my contract just ended and I chose not to reenlist. After 16 years, the majority of that away, I decided to take some time to just spend with Kelley and my family. I've started job hunting now."

"I could have guessed that one by the way you greeted us. You'll fit right in, I'm ex-navy and Kelley's brother is currently in the Navy. Are you going to do something healthcare related?"

"She did mention that. When I was younger I wanted to do something healthcare related weather it was a nurse or a doctor, but I joined the Army at 18 instead. There were some things that I experienced that definitely changed my desire to pursue it. I'm currently interviewing for security positions and looking into starting my own company a bit down the road. My dad used to have his own security company and I quite enjoyed hanging around and learning from him when I was a teenager."

He nodded along in understanding before his stoic, stern look reappeared, "How long have you been dating my daughter? What are your intentions with her?"

How long we had been together was a bit complicated. We had been talking to each other and seeing each other when I was on leave for about 2 years before we started officially dating. We were practically a couple during that time, just without the commitment. I didn't want Kelley to have to wait for me every time I went away and couldn't give her what she needed. My past relationship had ended with my ex cheating on me because of that so I didn't want to go through that again.

Kelley later revealed that she had never so much as looked at another person in that time and she had always considered us together. Then she had forced my fears out of me and convinced me to take a chance on her. It was the best decision I had ever made. I wasn't exactly sure what to say, I didn't know what Kelley had told them. Knowing Kelley though she probably included out non-committed dating. "Four years. My intentions are simple, I just want to love and support her for as long as she'll let me. I want to continue to make her laugh over stupid stuff, cheer the loudest at all her games and anything else she chooses to do. I hope to-"

"Dad stop interrogating her," Kelley spoke up, sitting on the arm of the couch, arm wrapping around my shoulders.

"It's okay love. I can handle it."

Thankfully the interrogation stopped, instead moving into easier questions about my life and relationship with Kelley. The longer we talked the more relaxed I started to feel. They didn't seem to hate me which was a plus. The only thing left was to meet her siblings, which was still causing anxiety, but Kelley was either playing with the baby hairs on the back of my neck or with my fingers. It was enough to keep me in the moment, it always was. I slipped out to use the bathroom only to find my way into the kitchen where Kelley's mum was working on dinner.

"Do you need any help Karen? I've never made most of this stuff so I can chop stuff up or something if you like."

"You can peel and cut those potatoes then slice the brussels sprouts in half if you like."

"Sure. What sort of food are you making?"

Karen started moving around the kitchen showing me all the different food she was making. There were a few things I had never tried like green bean casserole and stuffing. There was also a few things that I didn't like, one of them being the main component which was turkey. I would eat it anyway out of respect for Karen. Afterall, she was spending hours preparing food for us. After cutting up anything needed, I decided to stay and watch how things were made. There may come a day where Kelley and I hosted thanksgiving so I wanted some idea of what to do. Karen didn't seem to mind as she happily talked through what she was doing, giving me instructions to stir something or hand her things.

"Mum, have you seen Y- nevermind she's there. What are you two up to?"

My arm wrapped around Kelley's shoulder, lips meeting her temple, "Your mums teaching me things."

"She's a pretty good assistant this one. I don't want to overstep, but I've been meaning to ask why you're not with your family for thanksgiving?"

"No, no not at all. We don't actually celebrate it. We moved here when I was younger and never picked it up, but it's important to Kelley so I'm trying to learn about it."

Kelley smiled up at me, squeezing my hand that still hung over her shoulder, "Erin and Jerry are here. Mum, can I steal your assistant away?"

Karen shooed us out of the room, but I pulled us to a stop just outside, out of the view of anyone. The nerves had hit me once again. Her parents seemed to like me or at least not hate me, now I had to make a good impression on her siblings. It was a lot of pressure because I knew how much Kelley's family meant to her. Kelley looked at me for a second before pulling me in for a tight hug, fingers running through my hair. "You're okay, this will be okay. I'll be right by your side. We can go when you're ready."

---

I found myself cuddled up under a blanket with Kelley outside as she caught up with her siblings. After the initial nervousness of meeting them, we had gotten to talking pretty much instantly. They had asked the same sort of questions as Kelley's parents, just less intense. Thankfully, they seemed to not hate me as well.

They were doing most of the talking, while I just listened and fiddled with Kelley's fingers. Seeing how happy Kelley was with her family, made me happier than I could express. Her smile was one of my favourite things about her and even after four years, her laugh still made the butterflies in my stomach erupt.

Just before my mind drifted back to marrying Kelley, her sister spoke up. "About time our girl brought someone home to meet us."

"What's wrong with her?"

I wasn't sure what to make of that, if it was an insult or not so I kept quiet for now. Kelley on the other hand, didn't. "Jerry! What the hell?"

He put his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, I didn't mean that seriously, it's just you hid her from us for four years, there's got to be something wrong, extra toe? Hidden tail?"

"You're a dork. No, Y/n doesn't have an extra toe or a tail. Maybe don't tell mum and dad this, but things were a bit complicated to start with, I mean we were good, just complicated. Then she was gone on and off for the past two years and things just didn't line up."

"You did long distance?"

Kelley squeezed my hand, cuddling further into me. This time I decided to answer. "We did. I was deployed more than I would have liked, but we made it work."

"Now she's back and she's not allowed to leave me again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

---

When Kelley was distracted with her siblings, I approached both her mum and dad, "Hey, can I talk to you guys in private for a minute please?"

They lead me to the outside seating area, sitting down across from me as I took a breath to calm me down. "Dan, you asked me earlier what my intentions were with Kelley and I never got to fully answer because she came in. Now I'm not asking permission because I'm not sure she would want that and ultimately it is Kelley's decision. In saying that I did want to let you know that I am planning on proposing to her. Kelley's it for me, there's no one else in this world that I want to spend my life with."

They looked at me for a few seconds before Karen smiled, standing up to hug me, "Good. She loves you so much Y/n. I've never seen my daughter look at anyone like she does you. She's happy, keep her that way and we won't have a problem."

Dan approached me, same stoic look from earlier before holding his hand out to shake, "We appreciate you letting us know. You continue to treat my daughter how she deserves and we'll welcome you to the family with open arms. Do you have a plan?"

"The only thing I want is for her to be happy. I don't have a plan yet, I've had the ring for a while, had it on me constantly since a week or so after I got back. I'm just waiting for the right time I guess. She deserves the best."

Karen smiled, "Maybe you'll find the right time while you guys are here, surrounded by family."

"You'd be okay with that? Me hijacking thanksgiving to propose to Kelley."

"Of course we would. It's a special moment in her life and we want to be apart of that if you want us to be."

"I thinks that's perfect. Do you do that thing where you go around saying what you're thankful for?"

"Not everyone does, but we do."

"Then I have an idea. We should get back though because I can see her looking at us through the window."

Kelley wrapped her arm around my waist to cuddle into my side. If you ever lost Kelley, she would likely be cuddled against me in someway. Every chance she got, she was attached to me. While I used to hate touch, I loved hers. "What were you guys up to? Were they interrogating you again?"

"Your parents were showing me around and we were talking. I wouldn't call it an interrogation so don't worry."

---

We sat around the dinner table filled with food and my nerves were starting to skyrocket again. It was a different type of nerves though, they were more a mixture of excitement, fear and anticipation compared to the anxiety and fear I felt earlier. I was about to ask Kelley to marry me. It was never my intention to do it the first time I was meeting her parents, but they had suggested it. I knew Kelley would love them being there. Everyone went around saying what they were thankful for before Karen turned to me with a knowing look.

"Y/n, your turn."

My fingers laced with Kelley's which rest on my knee to stop the bouncing, "I'm thankful for a lot in my life, but I'm most thankful for the women who makes me complete. I'm thankful you stayed by my side over the years, even though I know it hasn't been easy. I'm thankful for all the times you make me laugh, the times you've wiped my tears and held me close. There's no one I'm more thankful for than you Kelley. I'm thankful that I get to love you and be loved by you. I love you Kelley, more than I ever thought possible. I will be forever thankful if you would say yes to this question," I stood up, dropping down to one knee and presenting the ring as tears shone in her eyes, "Kelley O'Hara, will you marry me?"

Kelley laughed, pulling me into a tight hug, "Yes, yes of course I will marry you."

"Did you guys know about this?"

Karen smiled, hugging Kelley, "She may have told us earlier. Welcome to the family Y/n."

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso imagines #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara #kelley o'hara x reader

194 notes · View notes

cherryblossomcowgirl · 2 months ago

Text

Hangman’s First Rodeo part 5

Masterlist pinned

Warnings: Angst; past trauma; parental deaths; fluff; implied smut

WC: 1.8k

I run out the door and look to see where Jake went. Scotty pulls up on his four-wheeler, “Hey, everything okay?” I start to cry even harder, “I ruined everything. I had something good and I already ruined it.” Scotty hugs me, “Y/n, do you love him?” I nod my head. He sighs, “Then find him and talk to him. Whatever this is, is it worth losing him?” I shake my head, “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him but I don’t know how to give up the teams. It’s all I have had for so long. Scotty, what do I do?” He wipes my tears, “You decide if you want this job to be your life. You decide if this job means more to you than anything else. You decide if you will finally break free of the box you put yourself in. Y/n, you are so much more than the job. You always have been and you always will be. And that guy, he sees that. He’s down by the creek.” “Thank you Scotty.”

Jake is sitting on the bank of the creek with his head in his hands. I take a deep breath and clear my throat, “Jake?” He turns around and I can see the red around his eyes, “Yes?” “Can I sit with you?” He nods and I join him on the bank. We sit in silence for a few minutes until he speaks, “Was all of this just going to disappear when you went back? Was I just a distraction for you?” My voice comes out quiet and shakes, “Never.” His eyes meet mine, “Y/n, I have only known you for a few months and I can’t picture my future without you.” Tears spill over and I whisper, “Jake, I can’t lose you. I don’t know how to do this, but I can’t lose you.” He sighs, “You know, I never wanted the whole wife and kids thing. Hell, I never even wanted a real relationship. Always thought of it as a distraction. But now I am getting older and I want it. But I can’t make you want it. You are young. You have so much more life to live. I can’t blame you for that.” “I have already lived that life. It almost killed me. It almost killed me and a part of me still wants to run back to it.” I throw my hands up and motion to the land surrounding us, “I run away from this. From this! What is wrong with me?” Jake shakes his head and throws his arm across my shoulders, “Nothing is wrong with you, darling. If you want to go back to the teams, I understand. Coronado isn’t far. We both do short deployments. This can work.” My eyes meet his, “You would do that, for me?” He pulls me in, “Darling, I would do anything for you.”

After exploring the land, Jake and I rest on the back porch swing. The conversation from earlier is still on my mind, but we agreed to revisit it another day. We watch as the sun sets over the sprawling oak trees. I trace Jake’s jawline, “So, kids? How many?” He looks at me and grins, “At least a couple. What do you think?” “I’d like a few. Being an only child isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He twirls my hair in between his fingers, “What about marriage? Ever thought about it?” “Honestly, no. I mean, I told you about my last relationship. It never got to that point. Something was missing. You?” He shakes his head, “That word would’ve run me off before. Now I can’t lie, I have dated. I have also made some poor choices. But nothing has ever lasted, I have never had that feeling.” I furrow my brow, “What feeling?” He smiles, “This.” “Yeah, me either.”

We spend the next few days on the land. Helping Scotty with the animals, mowing, picking Pecans, and harvesting from the garden. I make a mental note to check what Scotty is being paid, he deserves a raise. Everything is beautiful. As I walk towards the office, I hear him and Jake chatting in the kitchen. Scotty slaps Jake on the shoulder, “You are a good dude. Thank you for being there for her.” “Of course. She means a lot to me.” “I was so worried there for a while. She volunteered for every deployment. Never came back here. I can’t even imagine the guilt she carries, but the thought of losing her too? Couldn’t do it.” Jake’s brown furrows with concern, “What guilt?” Scotty sighs, “The night that her parents crashed? She was supposed to be with them. They were on their way to their beach house. That day she was offered an internship at this huge firm in the city. She stayed back to prepare.” Jake sniffs, “That’s why she joined the military, isn’t it? She was running away.” Scotty nods as I walk into the kitchen. They both start nervously explaining themselves. I raise my hand, “It is okay. Thank you, Scotty. You know I am not good at talking about those things. And yes, Jake, that’s why I joined. I had to start over.” Scotty looks at me, “Still doesn’t make it okay that you act invincible. You have people that care about you.” I give him a hug, “I know. I am sorry. I think the sun is setting on that part of my life.” Jake raised his brow, “Is that so?” I grin, “Yeah. I think so.”

Our time at the ranch is going too fast. I forgot how much peace there is out here. The simplicity of it all used to drive me crazy, but now it seems to calm me down. I find Jake down by the creek, sitting side by side we watch the water flow along the rocks. I wrap my arm in his, “I know we can’t have this right now. I know our life is in California. But one day, I want this.” He looks at me with wild eyes. I giggle, “What?” His rough palm holds my cheek, “You just said our life. Ours.” He kisses me hungrily. He kisses me like he can’t get enough. My hands run through his hair and down all down his arms. I want to feel him, every part. I want to memorize him. He picks me up and starts carrying me towards the house. I cuddle into his chest, “What are you doing?” “Darling, I am taking you to bed.” I kick my feet and giggle. He sets me down on the corner of the bed and I kiss him, “I love you. I don’t even know how to tell you how much I love you.” His green eyes pierce mine, “Tell me you are mine. Tell me you always will be.” I hold his face, “I am yours, Jake. I always will be yours.”

I wake up first and hop in the shower. The noise must’ve woken up Jake, because he walks in to brush his teeth. Almost instinctively, I cover myself behind the revealing glass of the shower. He cocks his head and smirks, “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling.” I roll my eyes, “Peeping Tom.” He winks at me as he walks out, “Looking good. Looking real good.” Heat rises to my cheeks and I finish my shower. When I walk out, Jake has made coffee and already poured me a cup. I kiss his cheek, “Thank you, handsome.” He wraps his arm around my waist, “Of course darling.” We sit on the back porch swing and look out at the beautiful landscape. I sigh, “It doesn’t get better than this.” “It doesn’t. I don’t want to go back.” “I know. I have been thinking about that. You know, what happens when we go back.” Jake furrows his brow, “Baby, you can take time to think about this.” I nod, “I have thought about it. This isn’t about choosing you or the teams. I thought it was, but it is so much more. This is about choosing myself or the teams. Am I going to let my job take over my life forever? Am I going to let guilt drive my entire life? Or will I choose what I want for myself.” Jake caresses my cheek, “And what is it that you want?” “I want you. I want every part of you. I want you to be the last thing I see when I go to sleep, and the first thing when I wake up. I already emailed Mav and the Commander, they’re talking to the leadership at Coronado about officially transferring me to Top Gun.” Jake looks at me with tears in his eyes, “Really?” I grin, “Really.” He holds my hand, “Please don’t just do this for me.” I shake my head, “This is for me, Jake. I’ve chased that high my whole career. I’ve told myself I’d be happy with each achievement, but it has never been enough. This is what I have been missing the whole time.” His kiss is demanding and filled with emotions. The electricity between us is undeniable. He pulls back and has a look of wonder in his eyes, “Y/n, I love you more than you could ever know.”

I sigh as I drive on to base. How did leave go by that fast? Mav texted and asked me to meet in his office to chat. Jake parks beside me and gives me a big kiss, “Mornin’, beautiful. See you at lunch?” I nod, “Sure thing.” Jake whistles as I walk towards the hangar. I knock on the office door and hear Mav, “C’mon in Rodeo.” Bradley and Mav are sitting on the couch, chatting. I raise my eyebrow, “Hey.. guys. What’s up?” Bradley pats the seat beside him, “Just wanted to check in after your leave with Hangman.” I sit down and chuckle, “My leave with Jake was great, thank you.” Mav clears his throat, “You request was approved. I spoke with your leadership and they talked to me about .. about everything.” I sigh, “So you called Bradley?” Mav shrugs, “You know the circumstances. Anyone else I wouldn’t but this.. you guys.. this is family.” Bradley looks at me, “How could you not tell me you got shot? You didn’t have to go through that alone.” I pat his shoulder, “Roo, I had to do it alone. And I am okay. I did it.” There’s a stretch of silence that Mav breaks, “Is this transfer.. is it for you or..” I grin, “Yeah Mav, it’s for me. It’s for me and for Jake and for a future I never thought I could have.” Mav smiles but Bradley’s eyes widen, “Future? With Hangman?” I roll my eyes, “Roo, he isn’t what you think. Now, can I get to work? I saw the pile of papers on my desk.” Mav laughs, “Of course. Hey kid, you know I am always here for you.” Bradley nods, “Me too.” I smile and hug them both, heading to drown myself in paperwork.

#glen powell x reader #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun #top gun maverick

30 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 year ago

Text

If You Want It To Be - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down after a hunt, Sam and Dean tow you back to the bunker for Christmas. This time of year gives you and Dean a little courage to be honest about what you both want. And what you want, is for him to see you. (18+)

AN: Here’s Part 2! This fic is an entry for @deanwinchesterswitch's TGWRC: Christmas in July event. 🩵❄️

Themes: Mistletoe (a classic), eggnog, Christmas dinner

Word Count: 5,700 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut central, tiny bit of angst, fluff and feels. ❤️💚

Part 2: Christmas Eve

Before you start on the Christmas cookies, you pull Castiel aside.

“Here’s the mission,” you tell the angel. “I know the guys don’t do Christmas all that often, so I want to surprise them with a nice dinner tomorrow. Think you can get this list of stuff for me? I think my addled brain forgot we needed real food too.”

Castiel looks over the scrap of notebook paper you give him with a critical eye.

“Uh, yes. This seems straightforward enough…what about pie?” he asks.

You raise a brow at him. “What about pie?”

“Dean likes pie.”

“I understand, but Christmas is for cookies. Not pies.”

“I think Dean would beg to differ,” Cas points out.

“Fine, get the man his pie,” you relent with a sigh. “Get pecan. He likes pecan, and that’s still somewhat Christmasy.”

“He likes apple better,” Cas mutters, but he still takes up your list and heads out to do your bidding.

Now with most of the bunker, namely the kitchen, all to yourself, you put on some festive music on your phone before you start to lay out all your ingredients on the counter.

Not many people know about your hobby, but you think you’ve seen enough baking shows to be proficient with some flour and egg.

You decide to begin with good old-fashioned sugar cookies that you’ll try your best to decorate later. But first, you start measuring out ingredients.

You sing along with Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby,” not knowing that you have an audience.

Dean spots you on his way back in from the garage. He was aiming to grab a drink of water from the fridge. He finds you instead, bopping around the kitchen. He hears you humming breathily to the music, watches you swaying your hips to her sultry notes. And he smirks.

He steps up behind you and leans in close to your ear to ask, “What’cha making?”

You jump with a loud yelp, flinging up flour with your wooden spoon. Hearing Dean’s laughter, you whip around and give him a playful glare before swatting at him with the spoon.

“Hey!” he protests when you mark his shirt (more than once) with flour. You smirk and continue your task of mixing the dough.

Serves you right, troublemaker, you think. He comes up behind you to inspect your work.

“Cake?” he asks.

“Cookies, remember?” you tell him. “Want to help me?”

“You seem to be doing just fine.” He raises a brow as you take chunks of dough, roll them evenly in your hands, and place them on the tray. You’re making quick work of it too.

“Matter of fact, you look like a pro,” he adds.

You flash him a smile tinged with nostalgia.

“Yeah, well, my mom and I used to do this together every year when I was a kid. Snickerdoodles, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, oatmeal chocolate chip—”

“I think I get the picture,” Dean says with a growing smile. You return it, but your expression starts to fade the longer you think of her.

Dean catches the shift; he knows your mom passed just a few years ago, losing her battle with lung cancer. He and Sam attended the funeral.

Dean understands. He just lost his own mother a few months ago—again. Another reason he can’t quite be Mr. Nice Guy with Jack. At least, not how they used to be. He knows it wasn’t the kid’s fault. Logically, Dean knows this. The nephilim didn’t have his soul.

In Dean’s heart though, his mom is still gone from this world. She got cheated out of her second chance at life. And deep down, selfishly, Dean feels cheated too.

It’s a reminder that gets stuck in his throat. But it dislodges another memory, one he feels comfortable enough with you to share, in the privacy of a quiet kitchen.

“I think I remember helping my mom bake something once, when I was a kid,” Dean admits. Though he clears his throat when your gaze turns to him in interest.

“Think it was chocolate chip cookies…well, whatever, they were hard as a rock,” he says, smiling at the memory. “So we went to the store and bought some from the bakery instead.”

You watch how his face softens, in the way it does whenever he talks about his mother. You smile just as softly.

“Aw, little Dean,” you say, because you can imagine it so clearly. Maybe he’s four or five, working dough between his small hands. And beautiful Mary, smiling beside him, encouraging him.

Dean’s eyes meet yours, uncomfortable with the gentle way you’re looking at him. So he clears his throat and goes into the fridge. He pulls out the eggnog and finds the rum you bought last night, specifically for what he’s about to do.

“Ooh, good idea,” you say as he fixes both of you a glass. Though you balk at his heavy pour of rum. “Geez, trying to get me drunk before noon?”

He grins at you. “Morning, night, and day are the only times to be drunk.”

You snort in response.

“Is that all?” you remark, and you wipe your hands of the wet dough (and most of the flour) before you take the glass he offers. You clink your glass with his and take a sip, even though you choke on it soon after.

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” you cough. He had to have poured half the bottle of Bacardi Superior in there.

Dean sucks between his teeth. “Yep, that is bracing.”

He glances over at you and smiles, raising a finger at the corner of your mouth.

“You’ve got some there,” he points out. You touch your chin, trying to feel for anything on your face.

“Where?”

“On your mustache, there.”

“I don’t have a mustache!” you say indignantly. You know this for a fact, as you spent a fair amount of time waxing and shaving yourself last night.

…Not that you had any particular reason to (or anyone to wax for), you just noticed that you needed some grooming. That’s all.

Dean’s grin edges into a teasing smirk. “Don’t worry, it’s cute. Less Duck Dynasty and more Steve Harvey, Family Feud guy.”

You splutter laughing and hit his chest with the back of your hand.

“You’re such an ass.”

He chuckles and wipes the bit of eggnog from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. It makes your cheeks flare with a warm blush.

“Well, I uh, should get these into the fridge to chill,” you say. You grab the tray of rolled up cookie dough and head for the fridge, but maybe you’re more frazzled than you realize.

You accidentally knock into Dean’s elbow, making him spill half his drink down the front of his shirt.

You gasp, eyes flying wide, while he looks down at the mess now dripping from his shirt onto the floor. When he eventually looks up at you in deadpan exasperation, you have to bite your lip against a smile.

“Good job,” he cracks.

“I’m so sorry,” you say with a bubble of nervous laughter. “Hold on.”

You finish putting the tray in the fridge and immediately turn to grab a few paper towels. You go to Dean and start helping him blot out the sticky, frothy mess staining through his green flannel and black undershirt, from chest to sternum.

The problem is, the paper towel is thin and breaking off on his shirt, making your task damn near impossible. White, wet pieces of paper are coming off on his black shirt.

“Well, you’re doing great,” Dean wryly remarks.

You can’t help but giggle. “It’s not all my damn fault here. Who the hell buys one-ply paper towels?”

“Sam. Evidently, he’s cheap as hell,” he replies, eliciting another laugh from you.

Soon enough you give up on the paper towel with a huff, and you go to grab an actual hand towel. Dean follows you, which assures that you bump into him again when you turn back around.

You yelp as your foot starts to slip on the sticky drops on the floor, but Dean grabs your arms, steadying you. You can’t help but giggle again, looking up at him. He quirks an amused smile down at you.

But then your face slackens as you gaze up above his head. He curiously follows suit.

And you both realize that you’ve fallen into a trap.

Jack’s sprig of mistletoe once again lies above your head. Your heart trips up a bit faster as Dean looks down at you, this time with a growing smirk.

“My turn,” he says. His eyes are flirtatious, but they hold a hint of something deeper. Something you can’t name.

“Are you gonna go for my cheek like I’m your cousin?” he asks.

His raised brow is a challenge, and it makes you bite the inside of your lip. He can be so annoying, but you suppose he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t make things more difficult for you.

Well, I didn’t put on lipstick for nothing, you muse. And though anticipation and nerves trill down your spine, you lean up on your toes, take his face between your flour-stained hands, and press your lips to his.

It’s a sweet kiss, and his hands come to rest along the curve of your waist, holding you close.

When you pull away, you suddenly realize just what you’ve done as you let your hands fall away from his face. You’re not quite sure what to do with them afterwards, so they clench awkwardly in the air between you two.

Dean looks down at you with a softer, yet playful smirk. He reluctantly drops his hands from your waist.

But he makes a show of licking his lips. You taste sweeter than boozy eggnog…actually, you taste more like chocolate. He glances behind you, and sure enough, he spies the Nestle bag in the corner.

“Chocolate chips?” he notes, eyeing you suspiciously. “Maybe those weren’t originally meant to be sugar cookies, huh?”

His gaze is drawn to the way you bite your lip again, trying to hold back an embarrassed smile. You raise a hand to wipe the imprint of MAC’s “Russian Red” lipstick from his mouth, and he smirks under the pad of your thumb.

“You saw nothing,” you warn him. You attempt to stifle another nervous giggle. “You’re officially sworn to secrecy.”

He hums at that. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“You’re asking for a bribe?” You raise a brow.

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Maybe. What’cha got for me?”

He rests a hand on the counter by your arm, subtly leaning in and looming over you with his broad frame. A hot blush heats your cheeks, then down your neck. And then excitement bubbles inside you.

Because the one thing you never thought would happen seems to be happening: Dean is actually, honest to God flirting with you.

Your mouth twitches at a smile as you pretend to think.

“Hmm…okay! I got it,” you say.

You grip the front of his shirt, and once again lean up on your toes so you can kiss him. This time, Dean holds you there by your cheek. His large hand presses against your warm skin, and his fingers soon delve into your hair. You hum against his lips and deepen the angle of your kiss, your palms lying flat against his chest.

So fucking firm, you think. A solid wall of a man.

Dean’s free hand falls warmly on your hip, bringing you ever closer. He makes a pleased sound when you suck and nip at his lower lip. And with each new kiss, you’re falling deeper and deeper into the intoxication of him.

Before you realize it, he’s walked you back to press you into the little table in the kitchen, where you all shared breakfast this morning. But you surprise him by breaking the kiss. You pull away just enough to see his confused, handsome face.

“There you go. That’s your payment,” you tease. “Good enough?”

“Hell fucking no,” Dean rasps.

He dives back in to claim your lips, and you smile, letting him do it. Your whole body is buzzing with warmth of feeling and happiness, especially when his arms slip around you firmly and pull you flush against him. Your hands travel up his flannel-clad arms to wind around his neck.

A moan catches in your throat when his lips veer away from yours, beginning a path along the curve of your jaw, down the side of your neck, stopping just under your ear. His stubble prickles against your skin in the most delicious of ways. Your eyes close at the feeling.

You sigh and card your fingers up the back of his neck, through his hair. “Dean…”

He surprises you with a nipping kiss on your earlobe, making you jump a little with a yelp.

You utter a laugh and playfully tighten your hand in his hair. “Hey!”

The sound of his deep, muffled chuckle in your ear sends tingles along your skin and heat, down between your legs. You let out a shaking sigh and press kisses of your own to his neck.

You tug at the collar of his shirt to reveal more skin, so you can latch onto his shoulder next. It’s a playful bite, one that elicits a groan from Dean as his thigh slips between both of yours.

His hands find your waist, and with a quiet grunt, he hefts you up onto the kitchen table. You squeal at the sudden move, clinging to his shoulders when the table shakes a bit.

But it prompts you to look up at Dean’s face. You see the desire darkening his eyes to hunter green. And his hands part your knees to let him stand between them.

You blush hotly when his palms smooth up your bare thighs, over the skirt of your dress. He drags the thin fabric with him and rucks it up well above your knees. Your mouth parts on a shaky breath when those sinful hands stop at your hips, bunching up the fabric there.

“I like this dress,” he mentions. Your mouth curves with a grin.

“I think it likes you back,” you reply. Your gaze falls to his chest as you pick at the collar of his flannel. “This should go, though.”

With an amused huff, Dean shrugs out of the green plaid first. You help him with the black undershirt next, giggling a little when it gets caught on his wrist and spikes up his short hair. That’s all right, you think, because you’re about to mess it up even more.

Your hands run over his bare chest first though, as you drink him in with your eyes. Dean notices with a smirk, and he lets you pull him in again by his hair as you meet him with a passionate kiss.

He likes the way you try to devour him with lips and tongue and teeth. In turn, he slips underneath the skirt of your dress and squeezes your thighs.

You gasp into his mouth, allowing him to devour you back. It makes you realize that this is seriously heading somewhere. It’s hot and heady and his touch is making your head swim. But your heart shoots you a firm reminder…

One that makes you slower to respond to Dean’s increasingly demanding kiss.

Sensing your hesitation though, Dean slows his roll.

“You okay?” his deep voice rumbles.

When you don’t have a ready answer for him, he pulls back enough to see your face. He finds your uncertainty.

You look down in embarrassment.

Even though his heart is still pounding (and his dick straining in his jeans), Dean moves his hands from under your skirt, back to your waist. And he raises his brows, ducking to find your eyes. Once you meet his gaze, he gives you a smile.

“Hey, talk to me,” he prompts. His thumbs brush against your sides, earning your weak smile back. Your hands slide down his neck to rest on his shoulders.

“Sorry. I just, um…” you stumble on your words. You’re not sure how you want to say this, but Dean’s brows are knitting together. His face is more serious now as he watches you with singular focus. It gives you enough courage to put your heart in his hands.

“This, us, right now…is this a one-time deal?” you ask.

Out of all the things he thought you might say, maybe Dean should’ve prepared for that one a bit better. He frowns, considering how to answer you—and what would put the least amount of pressure on you. Even though his gut is telling him (kicking him), on what he should really tell you.

But those words get stuck in his mouth. So all he can bring himself to say is…

“If you want it to be,” he says.

You bite your lip at that. Though not in a good way, his instincts also tell him. Your gaze falls.

“That’s just it,” you say. After a moment, you manage to look up at him again.

“I don’t think I can do that,” you say in measured tones, even though you’re scared. “I like you, Dean.”

The “like” feels like something a lot deeper, even to your own ears.

But you don’t expect the way Dean’s guarded face softens.

He breaks into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek with his thumb. You close your eyes at the tender touch.

“Well, that’s good,” he says. “Because here I was, trying to wrap my head around how I was supposed to let you go after havin’ you…right where I want you.”

Your eyes flash open at that. Then he leans down and kisses you again. Your shock is a powerful thing, but it all but melts at his touch. You relax into him with a sigh of relief, kissing him back and closing your eyes against the sweet sting of tears.

You don’t have time to let them fall though. Dean doesn’t give that to you. He pulls you by your thighs until you’re at the edge of the table. You feel his hands travel up and curl around the waistband of your underwear. You raise up for him so he can tug them down, over your ass and thighs, and you kick the black, lacy panties off your foot with a giggle.

Dean grins, especially when you go for his belt. Your eyes briefly meet with his while you make quick work of the buckle, then the button and zipper on his jeans. You hook two fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and tug him closer.

“Come ‘ere,” you whisper.

Smirking, Dean obliges you, stepping closer into your orbit. And he has to grip your thighs for support when you slide a hand down the front of his underwear, feeling down the length of his hard cock with a gentle, sensuous hand. He moans, pressing his forehead into your shoulder.

“Ooh, finders keepers,” you tease. Dean snorts against your neck and presses a biting kiss there, satisfied by the way you gasp and shiver.

You feel the shape of his smile on your skin. But he grabs your arms tight when your hand squeezes experimentally around his cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You gonna keep teasing me, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you reply cheekily. All the while, you continue to caress him within the confines of his pants, especially brushing your thumb around the sensitive head.

If you keep this up, he’s not going to last long enough to do everything he wants to do to you. Everything he’s dreamed about for years with a hand wrapped around himself…but he’s been too much of a fucking coward to make that leap with you.

He told himself he was protecting you. That you were better off with someone less damaged. That he’d just drag you down into his hellish life.

But he just can’t fucking take it anymore.

So Dean grasps your wrist, prompting you to release him. You look down at his face and catch the way his playfulness fades into a more concentrated desire. The heat in his eyes makes your mouth part in soft surprise.

Dean picks up from where he left off before, pressing a hand to your cheek and ravaging your lips. His hand then slides into your hair and gets a firm grip. All the while, his free one slips beneath your dress and between your legs. First he just teases the seam of your pussy with the calloused pads of his fingertips.

Your breath catches in your throat as you squeeze his shoulders and lean back, giving him a better angle. And you utter a moan when those thick digits slip between your folds and sink deeply into your wet heat.

“Dean,” you gasp his name into his mouth. The hand in your hair tightens as he works you over, exploring your inner channel with two fingers while this thumb presses and circles around your clit. Your tremulous hips begin to move in time with his rhythm, meeting his thrusts as you pulse deep inside with pleasure.

His lips drift away from your mouth, pressing against your cheek, then into your neck.

“I got you, baby. Let go for me,” he says hotly in your ear. His thumb rubs more insistently against your clit in time with his pulsing fingers.

Your inner walls squeeze around his hand, tighter and tighter. And you utter a gasping moan into his ear as you cling to him. Dean strokes inside you through your shuddering release. It’s almost too much, but it prolongs the feeling of your pleasure and makes your arms tremble around his neck.

Afterwards, he rubs your lower back until you catch your breath. You manage to press a grateful kiss into his neck, then his cheek.

“Holy shit,” you utter. It earns a genuine laugh from Dean as he cups the back of your head.

“Oh, we’re not done,” he promises, leaning back to look into your eyes. “I think you’re gonna be more comfortable in my room.”

You tilt your head at him. “Or…”

You shuffle even closer to him on the table and pull off your dress, slipping it over your head. You feel a little self-conscious in exposing your full self to him, but Dean watches you undress with hungry eyes and a tight jaw.

After your black dress falls to the floor, he takes in the sight of your body, his gaze landing on the black lace bra still covering your breasts. His hands slip up the curve of your waist, up your sides, and slide behind to unhook your bra.

His mouth burns a trail down your chest, between the valley of your breasts when he drags the bra down your arms and to the floor. You grab onto his arms for support; you feel like you’re riding the hurricane that is Dean Winchester, and you don’t expect to come out intact.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shudder. You suck in a breath as his hands cup your breasts, roughly kneading and rolling his thumbs over pert nipples.

“Smooth talker,” you manage to quip with a smile.

“Ain’t nothin’ but the truth,” he tells you. “Feels like I’ve been waiting a goddamn lifetime for this.”

His eyes are dark with desire, but they’re also serious. Your voice gets stuck in your throat for a moment. He’d been waiting for you?

But you realize that sometimes, words are overrated. You slide your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth and taking satisfaction from the way he groans into yours.

He holds you flush against his chest, skin to blushing skin. He runs his warm hands down your naked back, familiarizes himself with each and every one of your curves.

Dean’s waited so long for this, he doesn’t know whether to take his time, or just take you right now before someone walks into the open kitchen.

But you make the decision for him.

You break away from his lips to drag his belt and jeans down, just enough to shuffle them past his hips. Dean’s lips curve into a smirk. It would be easier to turn you around and bend you over on the table (and the thought is pretty fucking appealing right now).

…But he wants to see your face. He wants to know, looking in your eyes, what you want from him and how his touch makes you feel.

So he helps you free his straining cock from his boxers to line himself up to your entrance.

With his arm wrapped around your waist to support you, and a hand on the table, Dean sheathes himself inside you. You both release shaking breaths as he bottoms out, stretching your inner walls and wrapping firmly around him.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You nod at that, wiping the dewy sweat forming above his brow. He flashes you a grin, one you recognize from his younger, more boyish days. It’s a welcome sight, and you smile back and wrap your legs around his hips. If possible, it buries him deeper inside you. He groans.

“Damn, baby,” he says, panting for breath. “Haven’t even started yet, but you might just kill me.”

“There are worse ways to go,” you tease.

He snorts at that. In their line of work, isn’t that the fucking truth.

When he begins to slide out of you for the first time, you brace yourself with a hand at the back of his neck and another on the table. Dean begins a steady rhythm, one that serves you well as you get used to the size of him.

But eventually you urge him on faster, your nails scraping through his hair and against his scalp. He groans and drives into you at a clip that makes your toes curl and a keen high in your throat.

He spills hotly inside you when he comes.

You know you shouldn’t have let him, but you wanted to feel him, wanted to hold him the way he held you. And you do so, stroking his cheek and drawing a thumb across his full lower lip as he shudders.

But Dean isn’t satisfied, not until his fingers further part your folds and find your still sensitive clit. He rubs and circles insistently, until you can’t help but give him your second release, shuddering a moan as you cling to him. He holds you with an arm wrapped tight around your lower back, pressing your breasts against his chest.

You both pant for breath. His cheek rests alongside yours, and both of your eyes close for a moment. You brush your fingers more gently through his hair.

“Dean,” you start to say, but the sound of the bunker’s door unlocking makes you both freeze.

“Shit,” Dean mutters.

You can’t see them from the kitchen, but you hear Sam and Jack come in. Oh fuck.

Dean reluctantly detangles himself from you and wrestles up his underwear and jeans. Meanwhile, you hop off the kitchen table to grab your dress, pulling it on as you look for your bra and panties.

Sam calls your name, then Dean’s. But the two of you ignore him as you try to silently scramble around.

You manage to find your bra, but you don’t have time to put it on. You shove it behind the toaster. Then you find a napkin to wipe off the rest of your lipstick.

Meanwhile, Dean finds his black shirt. He hesitates when he sees it’s stained all over with flour and dried eggnog, but he puts it on anyway. (He won’t realize until later that his hair and shoulders are flecked with the stuff, just as his lips and chin are still smudged with your lipstick.)

He grabs the green flannel you throw at him, and he finds your panties tossed in the corner. He raises up the black lace in his hand and smirks at you with waggling brows.

“Give me that!” you whisper-hiss. The slick between your thighs is already becoming uncomfortable, along with the chill on your bare ass under the dress.

But instead of obeying, Dean winks at you and pockets them instead. You gape in disbelief as he flees the kitchen, presumably to disappear into his room. It leaves you in a…sticky situation, so to speak.

Sam calls your name questioningly when he comes around the corner. He pops into the kitchen with a few Walmart bags in hand. Sticking out of one of them are some stockings, you notice.

“Hey, how’s the baking going?” he asks.

“Good!” you say, though your voice is far too high and chipper. “Good. Just about to get them into the…oven.”

You turn and realize you haven’t even pre-heated the oven. You do so after pressing a few buttons, and you go to the fridge to grab the tray of chilling dough.

Sam raises a brow at you, especially when he sees your frizzy hair, and the flour stained across your bottom.

But he wisely doesn’t comment.

Later that night, Dean lays on his bed. He’s long since showered, fully clothed, arms crossed while his music plays from his laptop. But he can’t make himself focus on anything else but you.

How it was to finally have you; not just the give of your soft curves under his hands, but the sound of your voice coming apart in his ear, the way you’d begged him, at times teased him, and then gave him a run for his money with your wily hands and tongue.

Dean’s had all of that running through his head for the rest of the damn day.

And there were stolen looks at dinner that evening. Furtive smiles. Brief, innocent touches. Moments where you blushed down to your neck, and he had to hide his amusement. (Even if his brother had noted his apparent good mood at dinner.)

But between Sam and the two angels hanging around, Dean hasn’t had a chance to talk to you after what happened in the kitchen. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.

If you want it to be, he’d said, when you asked if this was going to be a one-time thing.

He hopes he made himself clear—that this is not that kind of deal. Not for him.

Now that he’s gotten a taste of what he couldn’t have, and worse, now that he knows you want more from him…he just can force himself to let go this time.

There’s a thought that he doesn’t want to face. It’s been buried so deep, for so long, that he can’t even commit it to the forefront of his mind.

But it’s there.

Despite the hell he attracts like flies to shit, he wants you. Not for one night. Not just for kicks. He wants you to stay arguing with him about stupid shit, taking his teasing and dishing it right back—like making fun of his slippers and how much he secretly likes country music.

He wants you with him and Sam on hunts, even though it also makes him worry. (But he worries much more when he knows you’re out there, hunting alone.)

Dean thinks about you when you’re not around, more often than he’d like to admit. So today, he finally had to face the truth.

He wants you. More than he’s wanted anything in a long time. And he wants to find out what it’ll be like to try this for real, with you.

The thought that you still could be thinking otherwise, wondering, doubting him, has Dean going mildly insane.

It’s not right, and he takes pride in righting wrongs.

So he decides to break out of the confines of his room to find yours. It lies down the hall and to the left; he knows because you take the same room every time you stay at the bunker, which admittedly, isn’t as often as he likes. Maybe they can change that…

“Oh. Hello, Dean,” says Castiel.

Dean inwardly curses as the angel comes from the opposite direction. Already he’s tilting his head in curiosity.

“It’s late. Feeling peckish?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replies. He moves past the angel and continues down the hall.

“Dean,” the angel calls to him.

Dean pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“What?”

“The kitchen is the other way,” Castiel points in the direction in which he’s going.

“Uh…well, yeah,” Dean says. “I just, uh…”

Cas’s head tilts just so, confusion soon replacing his curiosity.

“Never mind,” Dean waves a dismissive hand. He’s forced to follow his friend down the hall, away from your bedroom door which lies just inches away.

He doesn’t know that you can hear the entire conversation from the safety of your bed, comfortable in your pajamas. You have to stifle a giggle as you listen to Dean fumbling. You have a feeling you know where he’d really been headed.

So you take your phone out and text him.

Foiled by Columbo once again, you tease.

Moments later, Dean texts you back.

More like cock-blocked.

You snicker at that. You still haven’t given back my panties.

And you ain’t getting them back. They’re spoils of war.

You roll your eyes. But then Dean starts typing again.

Just to recap. Today: not a one-time thing.

Your smile grows and warms, like melted butter.

Good…can we talk tomorrow?

It’s a date, he says. And a beat later. Merry Christmas, beautiful.

You realize it’s officially 12:00 a.m. Christmas morning. You have a feeling it’s going to be a good one.

Merry Christmas, Dean.

AN: 😏 Well then. Merry Christmas, indeed. Let me know what you thought of Part 2!

Next Time:

Dean takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the garage.

There you find the remains of your car, which has rusted out parts strewn haphazardly all over the ground. You raise a brow. This is how he fixes your car?

“You are so not winning the bet.”

Or will he? 😉

Find out in PART 3.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@iprobablyshipit91 @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @emily-winchester @hobby27 @spnexploration @freewastelandstrawberry @stoneyggirl2 @satanicpixiedreamgirl @agothwithheavysetmakeup @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @melancholictearz @tipthejar @deans-baby-momma @nic-kolas @jacklesdeanvessel @beautyvaliant @mrshalverson2021 @ajjustice @ades106 @luvs4dria

363 notes · View notes