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[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

.

.

.

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

[tootiecakes234]

Aged up Characters

MDNI: smutty

Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.

He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.

But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.

He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.

He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.

You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”

He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”

“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”

“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.

“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”

“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”

“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.

Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.

“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.

“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.

“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.

“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.

When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”

“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”

“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”

Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”

“Get to the point you terrible man”

He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.

This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭

*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines

[lavenderovercast]

MULLET TOWN collab with @honeyandberryjuice

summary: you take it upon yourself to take care of stan, and show him a little slice of heaven. relationship(s): stanley pines x GN!reader warnings: 18+ content, !! MINORS DNI !! author's note: this one was a lil trickier for us to write, but me & honey hope that you guys enjoy it!!! tags: MULLET STAN BABY WE LOVE THAT GUY!!!!, blowjobs/m receiving oral, harsh language/minor name calling, but like in a sexy way i promise, face fucking, plotless porn, fluff, oral sex, pet names, you wanna give stan the world, he wants to give you the world too <3 🌺 prefer to read on ao3? check out the series! 🌺

You have absolutely no idea how you got here. While you were usually the type of person to complain, especially when it meant you accidentally scuffed up your expensive new work boots, you really didn’t feel like you had that much to complain about this time.

Meeting up with Stan definitely had its upsides, especially when it meant you ended up with his fingers pounding inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. You never meant for it to happen, but the two of you were attracted to each other like magnets and no matter what different methods you tried to pursue to keep him at a comfortable distance, they never fucking worked.

“Yeah, tell me how much ya love it, doll,” His voice rasped, tinged with an almost mean teasing. It was clear that he had no interest in hearing any other response from you other than your moans hitching in your throat as he stretched you out with his thick fingers. His gold chain dangles loosely in front of your face, and you're overwhelmed with the urge to bite it. Only Stan could ever get you this feral over some damn accessory.

The thought suddenly evolves into action and before you know what in seven hells you’re doing, you’ve clamped the metal between your teeth. You glance up at Stan with fire in your eyes, as if you’ve just initiated some challenge that only he would understand— and he does, rather quickly. “You tellin’ me ya wanna use your mouth more, toots?” The grin he shoots down at you is diabolical, like he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to ruin you beyond recognition. You want exactly that.

His fingers pull away from you, leaving you empty and wanting. You would whine for the man and chase after him if you had no sense of dignity. But impressively, you always kept some of that intact during your visits with one another. Your teeth snap together as the gold chain is dragged away from your mouth by Stan adjusting himself in front of you, those big hands of his wandering to your shoulders. His touch is neither gentle nor rough as he pulls you up into a sitting position. 

For a moment, his hands brush affectionately across your temple to wipe away stray hairs that threaten to obscure that pretty face of yours from his vision. “You let me know if it’s too much.” He grumbles, the words a gentle assurance that doesn’t match the frenzied energy in the room now. You can’t stop the grin from forming on your own lips, nodding your head. 

“Yes, sir.” You nearly purr the words, your grin dying into a smile as Stan fights back the urge to fucking growl like some damn, deprived dog at the word that rolled so sweetly off of your tongue. Knowing you’re just doing your best to drive him fucking crazy in the best of ways, his hands find the top of your head and gives an encouraging, gentle push down that leaves you bent in front of him on your hands and knees. 

You don’t hesitate to get right to work. You tilt your head forward and grip onto the zipper of the man’s slacks with your teeth, moving one hand to undo the damned button above it. As you pull the zipper down, Stan has half the mind to help you with dragging his slacks down to his knees. He’s being a gentleman in his own right, not letting his partner put more work than you needed into your pretty performance for him. 

His fingers dig hard into your hair, nails brushing against your scalp as he feels your mouth on his boxers and the hardon underneath. You remember the first time the two of you had ever fucked that you’d been surprised by the size of him— He always exuded confidence, but you had grown to know him as secretly vulnerable and sweet when he had his moments. Suffice to say, you hadn’t been as prepared as you would’ve liked, but had more of a sense of how to handle it now.

The way he’s staring down at you with so much possession and intensity causes a shiver to travel up your body, all the way to the back of your neck. You weren’t always the most assured, but you knew when a man — or, in truth, only Stanley — wanted you. His gaze always made your body feel like fire was burning through your veins, and you had such an intense need to please him, to make him feel things he’d never felt before, that it almost overwhelmed you. Stan sending a cocky grin down your way would’ve made a weaker person combust on the spot, though you had a task to do.

You knew how insane it made Stan to use your mouth for absolutely everything, and you weren't about to let him down now. Without hesitating a second longer, you tip your head forward and grip the band of his boxers between your teeth, yanking hard and letting it snap harshly against his skin. The visceral moan that escapes him is animalistic, though audibly strains as you mischievously swipe your tongue up along the length of him through the fabric. Stan’s grip in your hair grows harsher, if that was even possible, and you let out a thrilled hiss as the delicious pain of it spreads across your skin.

“Filthy little whore, ain’tcha?” His bottom lip is latched by his teeth, though his jaw slacks with an expression that you can only take to mean ‘You’re my whore, and I’ll use you as I please’. Even though you could tease him forever, you know that Stan isn’t the most patient of men and he’d take matters into his own hands soon enough— You wanted to continue the control you were  having over him right now. 

Your cold fingertips brush his hips, dipping below his boxer band to skim over the sensitive spot leading down to his v-line. The boxers come off easily, the length of him springing free, a dewdrop of precum glistening on his pink-hued tip. And Jesus Christ, was the sight intoxicating. You only offer an acknowledging hum to the man’s words, afraid that you’d start drooling like a hungry dog if you tried to open your mouth to offer some sort of playful quip. 

You peek back up at the man through your eyelashes, your lips tugging into a mischievous grin before you dip your head forward, running your tongue across his tip. The salty taste of his precum hits your tongue immediately, only serving as encouragement for you to wrap your lips around your lover’s head. An approving groan sounds from Stan, whose face you haven’t kept your eyes off of. He looks like the wreck that you feel like now already, mullet messy and face flush. 

If you were still a Godly individual, you would pray to the lord that you could keep Stan like this forever, because his current dishevelment is certainly the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Determined to convey the strong, overwhelming need welling into your chest, you wrap your tongue around the head of Stan’s cock, swirling and moving the muscle skillfully around him. Stan rewards you with another pleased groan, those perfect hands of his applying a gentle pressure to the back of your skull to encourage you further down his cock. 

Typically, you wouldn’t tolerate Stan’s lack of patience. Typically, you would offer some form of punishment— whether that was your teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh of his cock (a sensation that you had a feeling he was very much into), or pulling your mouth off of him to tease and prod at the man until he took initiative over your encounter. This time, you give a hum around his dick and happily comply with the silent request, pushing your head down to take more of his length. 

“Fuck,” The word comes out a sigh more than anything else, and those big hands of his run lovingly through your hair before tightening their grasp again. “Look at you. You’re so hungry for me, hm?” His head tilts as he questions you, a wicked grin tugging the corners of his mouth up as you offer another hum around his dick. And then, with a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you continue your pursuit of making the man crumble under your touch the way that you’ve crumbled under his. 

And there was that blasted impatience again. Even though you were taking him so well, using all the techniques you’d practiced over the span of your relationship, Stan always wanted more. He wasn’t the type of man to only take an inkling of what he wanted— It was all or nothing.

The pressure on the back of your head grows stronger as he pushes you harder against him, the size of him hitting all the way to the back of your throat. Your eyes squeeze closed as you have to concentrate on your breathing, your mouth brimming with saliva as your cheeks begin to ache as you suck every inch of him. You weren’t lucky enough to say you have no gag reflex at all, though you’re a strong person and can fight off the urge if you’re determined enough. Your eyes begin to water, causing small tears to begin streaking down your cheeks, as Stan’s grunts grow louder with every thrust.

“You’re doin’... so well, sweet cheeks.” The man’s voice sounds again, this time breathy and hot. It’s clear that he means it by the jerking that you feel on the roof of your mouth. Maybe it’s the sudden softness in his tone, or the praise he’s giving you, but it gives you further incentive to give him anything he wants. You pat his thigh a few times to tell him that you need a breather, and he pulls himself out of your mouth, the hand that had laid on the back of your head softly sweeping around your face to cup you gently on the cheek. 

You climb to your feet, grabbing his hand between your own and pulling him towards his bed. You lay yourself on your back, head towards him with your head basically hanging off the edge. With a motion towards him, he stepped forward and you gripped the back of his thighs to pull him even closer. “Get back to it, then.” You demand, your tone playful.

Stan barks a laugh, wrapping a hand around his cock to reposition it into your mouth. “Whatever you want, toots.” He doesn’t say anything else as you take all of him once more, happy to find out that your intuition had been correct about changing to this position. Like this, you could take so much more of him without risk of your gag reflex setting you off so harshly.

The man throws his head back and hisses as he feels the tip of his cock even deeper in your throat, the tightness of it enveloping around him and causing a thrill of pleasure to spike through him as your soft lips touch the skin at his base. His head is dizzy from the sensation and his eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name loudly to the ceiling. You feel your crotch throb from the sound, your want so evident in your body’s reaction to his voice alone, but you know good things come to those who wait. Stan was allowed to be selfish in this moment, as he usually went out of his way to make sure you were satisfied before he even entered himself into you.

His arms reach up above his head to rest on the bed canopy, fingers curling around to grip tightly into the wood. You hear the scratch of his nails and know he’s close, your own hands still wrapped around the back of his thighs to try and take more of him. “I’m… I’m gonna cum, doll face.”

The words encourage you to tighten your grasp around the man’s thighs, a muffled whine threatening to rise up from your throat. Something about knowing that you’re the one making him feel this way, making him talk this way— it sends goosebumps across your skin as you double your efforts. Cheeks hollowed around the man, you’re doing the best you can to help Stan reach his limit. When your tongue curls around his cock, trying your damnedest to cover every inch of him, he gives another groan, followed by a gentle buck of his hips. 

Still so considerate of you, even when he’s on the fucking brink. That fact almost drives you as wild as the feeling of him cumming in you does. Stan’s grasp on the wood only tightens as he rocks his hips against you, gentle and careful as he rides out his orgasm. You’re all too happy to let him, swallowing every last drop of his cum with an eagerness that might bring a blush to your face later. It’s only when you can feel his hips come to a halt and his body relaxing above your own that you release your own grasp on his thighs. 

Stan pants softly as he pulls himself from you and your mouth, allowing you to become aware of the drool that now coated the corners of your lips and his cock. You can’t help yourself as a satisfied smile appears on your face as the brunette plops down beside you on the bed. He looks absolutely winded, sweat clinging to his skin as you happily move to cozy up to him. “Good?” 

“Good?” Stan repeats with a scoff, his eyebrows rising as he looks at you with an almost starstruck expression. “Best goddamn head I’ve ever gotten.” He confirms, a toothy grin forming on his face. You aren't allowed to bask in your pride of his praise for very long, though, because Stan moves an arm to gently pull you closer, so you’re damn near on top of him. 

The man nuzzles his face into your neck, his tone rough as his hands roam down your sides. “S’pose I oughta pay you back for that one, huh? Not very gentlemanly of me not to…” 

“Since when…” You begin to tease, but he finds that goddamn spot between your neck and collarbone that makes your breath catch, and your sentence devolves into giggles as you rolls your eyes affectionately at his antics. “...If you insist, sir.” 

A pleased groan rumbles against the sensitive skin of your neck, but before you can do anything else, Stan secures his hands around you to pull you onto his body. You give another giggle at the show of affection and closeness, your heart feeling fuzzy with warmth and your body aching for more of the man.

[sreidisms]

Hey! I absolutely love your work, english is not my first lenguage so sorry for any grammar mistakes, but imagine season 1 Spencer and reader waking up after their first time, reader is all sleepy as she tries to find her clothes so Spencer is insecure if she regrets anything but she's like "baby, I'm only trying to find my panties, calm down"

I basically squealed when I read this! It's so cute and so reid <3 also no need to worry, I'm European so I know that being fluent in multiple languages isn't the easiest!

The Morning After

Insecure!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend Spencer have sex for the first time, but he wakes up the next morning asking if you regretted it.

Genre: slight angst, fluff, slight smut

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: mentions of genitalia, mentions of female reproductive system, kissing, 'baby' used as a pet name, insecurity from Spencer's end, reader is mentioned putting on Spencer's shirt but it's over-sized to make it more body inclusive.

A/N: This took me a couple of days to write out because I kept on changing the way the drabble evolved, so I hope it makes sense now 😭

The first thing you felt was the sensation of a super soft quilt draped over your body. You hummed and snuggled deeper underneath the warmth, squeezing your eyes tighter as you realised a sliver of sunshine had settled across your face. You hadn’t had this good of a rest in ages.

To lift the pressure off your right shoulder, you turned to the other side but hit something in the process. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. What the fuck?

With sleep still gluing your eyes shut, you slowly pried them open to be met with an unfamiliar form beside you. It took a while for your brain to adjust to your surroundings and register that oh, this wasn’t your bed, and oh, that was your boyfriend Spencer.

His usually gelled back hair was ruffled and the different strands were standing in different directions across his pillow and forehead. His signature pout adorned his lips, the one you often saw when you had sleepovers, which you thought was the definition of adorable. Spencer, like this, in his natural state, could have you staring at him in awe for hours. Your gaze followed the dip of his collarbone until it met his naked shoulder that was peeking from beneath the sheets.

And then it hit you. Last night you had slept together for the first time.

You could remember it clearly now: Spencer had invited you over to watch a film and have dinner together, because he had missed you so much. Cuddling had led to kissing, that to making out, and after some shared words of reassurance and consent, you somehow stumbled to the bedroom and got in each other’s pants.

Vivid images of fumbling hands and smooth skin flashed inside your head: the feeling of his weight against your body, his thin hips digging into your flesh as he gently rutted into you before picking up the speed, his breath fanning against your neck; the sound of skin against skin and the struggling moans and whimpers that originated from the man’s open mouth. You had shared all of it with Spencer and he had looked so beautiful while doing so.

You couldn’t resist reaching a hand over to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. His brows further knotted together as he stirred in his sleep, leaning into your touch unknowingly.

After a few more strokes of your thumb, the boy’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils dilating as soon as he recognised you.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hi there, sleepyhead,” you whispered in return.

You leaned in to press a soft kiss on his nose and then a few more on his cheek. He giggled and scrunched his eyes and nose, melting into the affection that only you gave him.

“You slept well, darling?” you asked.

“Mmm, I always do when you’re here.”

After one more loving kiss on his plump lips, you shuffled out of bed in search of your missing underwear and a shirt to put on. All you could remember was throwing it into an unknown area, because your priorities were evidently somewhere else at the time.

It didn’t register in Spencer’s mind at first, but once he caught a glimpse of your bare ass and back, his eyes widened in shock. He fumbled under the sheets until he managed to sit against the headboard of his bed, looking downwards and realising yes, he was naked too. Naturally, memories from last night flooded his head: your lips on the sweaty skin of his neck, the softness of your entire body pressed against him in the most irresistible way, and most importantly, the way your cunt had engulfed him and it was so warm and wet. It made his cock twitch, but doubt overtook his thoughts, making the next words tumble out of his mouth like a reflex.

“Do you regret what we did … last night?”

His question pierced your ears and halted you mid-scavenger hunt. The choice of words - regret - concerned you, because you had enjoyed every single second of it. Did he regret it?

You turned around to face him, the worried wrinkles on your forehead appearing in an instant. “Regret? Of course not. Why is that worrying you?”

From where he was sitting, Spencer had a perfect view of your naked body. His eyes traced your shoulders, the swell of your breasts, the smoothness of your stomach and hips, not being subtle about it at all. He cleared his throat in an attempt to gather his thoughts, mind racing between insecurity and the very beautiful woman in front of him, one who he had no idea why chose him over all people.

“I- I don’t know …” He fumbled with his fingers and looked down at his lap. “You left the bed so quickly and I understand if you’re disgusted by me and you want to leave, I hope you didn’t feel pressured to have sex with me-”

“Spencer please,” you sighed, pressing the pads of your fingertips into your eyes and rubbing them. “I’m just trying to find my panties, baby, give me a second.”

He nodded timidly, scared he had said the wrong thing, chewing on his bottom lip with anxiety. You managed to find your underwear and slipped them on, hopping on one foot and then the other. Then, to simply satisfy the desire, you found Spencer’s over-sized Doctor Who t-shirt that had been abandoned and shrugged it onto your shoulders.

You padded across the wooden floorboards groggily and crawled back into your place on the bed, crossing your legs and sitting beside your doubt-ridden boyfriend. You tucked your forefinger under his chin, making him look at you.

“What’s going on in that smart brain of yours?”

The boy let out a chuckle that sounded more like a scoff, giving you a small glimpse of his gorgeous smile. “I thought you regretted what w-we did.” His cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment but also fear. What if you had just had sex with him because he wanted to? He couldn’t stand the thought.

You tilted your head to the side, gently holding his face in your hands and staring at him with pure love. “I loved every second of it, baby. I said yes because I wanted to, I really wanted to. I’m really glad you felt comfortable enough to share that moment with me, we created such a beautiful memory. I think what’s more important is if you enjoyed it, as it was your first time.”

Spencer smiled giddily, his cheeks getting redder. “I- I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

You grinned back, placing a kiss on his nose again. “That’s what I like to hear. And if it’s of any solace, you’ve got the prettiest body, love.” The comment hit him in the heart, the flush spreading downwards to his neck and chest.

You moved a hand to the nape of his neck, scratching the hair there. “I’d love to do it again.”

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me 2 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part.1 Part.3

Masterlist.

Warning: Not my edit, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: Y/N and Chris's relationship has evolved, but Y/N insists on keeping a low profile for fear that her parents will find out she has a boyfriend.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

"Wake up, honey, your dad is dropping you off today," my mom said, gently stroking my hair to wake me up.

I just hummed in response, too lazy to open my mouth and speak.

After a few seconds of tossing in bed to stretch and rub my eyes, I reached for my phone.

I smiled foolishly at my phone before getting out of bed to get ready.

My relationship with Chris had evolved since the night he climbed through my window two weeks ago. We decided to take our time; nothing was officially defined, and not many people knew about us.

Mainly because I was afraid my parents would find out I had a boyfriend. Chris didn't care; he wasn't the type to overthink, and that's precisely why I tried to keep this relationship discreet.

My parents had been quite clear in the past about boys—no boyfriends before the end of high school. According to them, it's a distraction, and they want me to focus fully on my studies, which I can understand.

On top of that, Chris is pretty much everything my parents would dislike, so it would be even worse if they found out I was dating him.

Anyway, I left my room to head to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, styled my hair, and applied a bit of makeup.

I wanted to look a bit nicer today for Chris; I knew this lacrosse match was important for him, and I wanted to please him.

"You look very beautiful. Do you have a special event today?" my father asked as he saw me coming into the kitchen.

"Um, no, I just felt like getting ready a bit," I nervously replied before sitting at the table for breakfast.

"By the way, I'll probably be home a bit later tonight. There's an important lacrosse match, and I plan to watch it with Julia," I added nervously.

"Hm," my father looked at me strangely before returning to his phone.

I had my breakfast peacefully, and then my father and I headed to school.

My morning went by normally—nothing extraordinary. I attended classes, worked, and chatted a bit with my best friend Julia. Then lunchtime arrived.

"See you at the match!" I told Julia as I left the class to go to my locker.

I opened my locker to put away my things, and when I closed it, I was taken by surprise by Chris standing right behind me.

"Oh my god, Chris!" I said, placing my hand on my heart, thinking I was having a heart attack.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said, chuckling, and I gave him a playful punch in the shoulder before laughing myself.

"You look good," he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I made an effort for you today," I told him, smiling and tilting my head to the side.

"Can't wait to take off that little skirt later," he whispered in my ear, making me blush.

"Chris!" I said, clearing my throat and looking around to make sure no one had heard.

He chuckled before leaning toward me for a kiss, and instinctively, I pulled back.

He gave me a confused look. "Not here. I don't want anyone to see us," I said timidly.

"Y/n, your parents aren't going to magically appear out of nowhere and catch us kissing. We're at school," he replied, rolling his eyes and sighing.

"I know, but I don't want to take the risk of someone telling them!" I replied.

"I couldn't care less if your parents don't like me, Y/n. It annoys me that I can't kiss you whenever I want!" he said, getting frustrated.

"Chris, I know. I'm sorry. Please, stop," I said, immediately feeling guilty. "Maybe you don't care, but it's important to me. I'm not ready for them to know. I need a little more time."

He sighed, throwing his head back. "Yeah, see you at the match after school," he said before turning around and leaving.

It really bothered me that things were so complicated. It was just the beginning of our relationship, and I was terrified of ruining everything because of my parents.

The rest of the day, I wasn't really focused on anything. I couldn't stop thinking about Chris. I didn't want to hurt him, and I could sense that this situation was bothering him. I wanted to find a way to make it up to him.

After school, Julia and I headed straight to the stadium to watch Chris's match. We had seats right at the front in the stands.

"Hold this for me. I'm going to see Chris quickly before the match starts," I told my best friend, handing her my bag.

Of course, she knew about Chris and me; she was the first person to find out.

She nodded, smiling at me, and I ran toward the locker rooms. I was lucky; Chris had just come out.

I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a more discreet spot where no one could see us, then kissed him.

"I'm sorry for earlier," I replied, separating our lips. "I don't want our argument to distract you from your match. I'll find a solution."

"I'm not angry with you, Y/n," he said, placing his hand on my cheek. "It's just that I wish I could show everyone that you're mine."

"Shut up," I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt to kiss him. "How about you show me how much I'm yours after this match," I added, biting my lip.

"You won't have to ask me twice," he said, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me against him, and kissing me again. "Join me in the locker room after the match," he said, disconnecting our lips.

"Chris, I meant at your place or mine, not here dumbass," I said, chuckling.

"I won't wait until then. If it were up to me, I'd fuck you against this wall," he said, smiling.

"No, Chris, you're insane. We're not doing that in the locker room," I said, shaking my head.

"Okay, let's make a deal. If I score three times during this match, we do it in the locker room. Otherwise, it's up to you to decide," he said, extending his hand.

"Chris," I said, looking at him seriously, and he insisted, "Oh my god, okay fine, deal," I finally gave in, and he kissed me quickly before turning back to the others.

Even if Chris was doing pretty well in lacrosse, there was little chance he would score three times on his own. Given the level of his team, I knew this deal was already in my favor.

"Are you done making out with your secret boyfriend?" Julia said when I came back to sit next to her.

"Oh, shut up!" I said, laughing.

It was Chris's first match that I attended. I had seen him practice once or twice quickly, but I didn't expect to find it so attractive to watch him play.

I don't know if it was the brutality with which he entered the opposing team members sometimes or the moments of pause when he removed his helmet to run his hand through his hair.

Not to mention the countless times he threw me looks that, honestly, soaked my panties.

I already found Chris incredibly sexy in everyday life. Sometimes I even felt like a teenager in front of a boyband with him. This guy represented everything I found most attractive.

When he scored for the first time, I was the first to cheer and encourage him, proud to see my boyfriend contribute to his team's victory.

The second time, however, I quickly felt reality catching up with me. Had I just been fooled? I felt anxiety creeping in. If he scored one more time, it meant I was going to sleep with him in the locker room. Oh my god, what had I done?

The rest of the match, every time he approached to score, my heart skipped a beat. But when the last few minutes arrived, I started to feel reassured.

That was without counting on the fact that Chris scored one last time in the last 5 minutes of the match.

Everyone in the stands stood up to celebrate our team's victory, and I sat there for a moment when I realized what that meant. Damn.

After a few minutes of celebration, the team left the field to head to the locker room, and I received a message from Chris.

I blushed at his message.

"Everything okay?" Julia asked, putting her hand on my shoulder, making me jump and immediately turning off my phone so she wouldn't see my messages.

"Um, yeah!" I said, clearing my throat and smiling to pretend nothing was wrong.

"Okay..." she said, looking at me strangely. "Anyways, my brother is dropping me home in 5 minutes. Do you want us to drop you off on the way to your place?" she offered.

"No, thanks, Ju. I'll wait for Chris to come out of the locker room. I have something to tell him quickly," I said timidly, running my hand over my neck.

"Oh, okay. Well, see you tomorrow, Y/n," she said, smiling before leaving.

It had been about twenty minutes since I was waiting in the stands, feeling stressed and anxious.

Of course, it wasn't about sleeping with Chris; on the contrary, I wanted it. It's just that I found it quite risky, and what if someone caught us?

Anyway, I made a deal with him, and I can't back down now.

My moment of solitude was interrupted by a message from Chris, letting me know that the locker room was empty, and he was now waiting for me to join him.

I took a deep breath and stood up before starting to walk towards the locker rooms.

I passed a few people on the way and tried to act casual as I walked past them. Once in front of the locker room door, I scanned the surroundings to make sure no one saw me enter.

I opened the door and quickly entered. My heart immediately raced when the door closed behind me.

I surveyed the room to find my boyfriend, but no one was there. "Ch-Chris?" I said timidly, gradually moving forward in the room.

No response. Turning my head, I saw Chris's bag on the bench with his lacrosse jersey on it, indicating that he was indeed here. "Not funny, idiot, answer me!" I said, rolling my eyes and starting to walk towards the showers.

Suddenly, I felt hands grab my waist and press me against a wall before feeling his lips crashing onto mine, making me sigh in surprise. "Chris! Oh my god!"

"That's the second time I've scared you today," he said, smiling proudly.

"Yes, and you really need to stop doing it if you don't want me to have a heart attack!" I said, giving him a playful shove to his chest.

I took a moment to admire him; he was shirtless, his hair still damp from the shower he probably just had. "I missed you," he said, reconnecting our lips.

"I missed you too," I replied, running my hand through his hair. "I didn't think you'd manage to score three times," I said in a slightly more timid tone.

"With the right motivation, there are plenty of things I can do," he said, smiling against my lips before removing one of the straps of my top.

"Chris—" I started to say before being cut off by his lips on my neck. "I know we made a deal, but I don't think it's a good idea," I said, unable to hold back small moans escaping my mouth.

"Why?" he asked, sliding his hands over my hips. "You don't seem like you want me to stop, judging by the sounds you're making," I could feel his smile against my neck.

"I don't—" I said, interrupted by a moan when he began nibbling on my neck. "If someone catches us, Chris, I—" I said before being cut off by his hands grabbing the back of my thighs to lift me.

"Don't worry. If you stay quiet, there's no reason anyone will catch us," he said with a smirk before kissing me again, this time our kiss was deeper and more fiery.

I knew it wasn't responsible of me, but his lips on my body only led me astray from the right path. I placed one hand on his shoulder while the other tangled in his hair. "We'll have to do this quickly, though. I don't know how much time we have before the janitor comes to clean the locker rooms," he said with a hungry voice, and I simply nodded.

He led us to the bench to sit next to his bag. His hands gripped my hips, making me moan once again, and I started moving my hips against his, making him groan in return. "I fucking missed this pussy. I can't wait any longer," he said, licking his lips, and indeed, I could feel his rock-hard cock through his joggers rubbing against my panties.

He came to grasp my throat in his hand, kissing me more fiercely than before, making me moan in surprise. This time was different, less gentle than the first, but equally pleasing. I couldn't help but squirm and moan, craving to feel him inside me again. "Shhh," he said, separating our lips.

"I'm sorry, it's just that—" I began before feeling his grip on my ass strengthen.

"It's just that what?" he said with a smirk. "Don't be all shy with me ma; tell me, or I'll stop now," he added, removing his hands from my ass.

"No, don't!" I said in a heated sigh before guiding his hands back to where they were, and he smiled. "It's just that I really need you now," I said timidly, and he immediately kissed me again.

His hands left my ass to remove his joggers and boxers, lifting his hips slightly, pressing his erection even closer to me, causing another moan to escape my lips.

"Y/n, you really need to make less noise than that," he chuckled, readjusting himself.

"Sorry," I said, blushing and looking down at his sizeable member. Not to brag, but in my eyes, it was rather large, and I was afraid that without any foreplay, his entrance might be painful.

"I won't enter before stretching you a bit, baby, don't worry," he chuckled before bringing his hand between our bodies.

He slid my panties to the side before inserting a finger inside me while looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

I tried to stifle a moan when he immediately added a second finger, making me furrow my brows and cling to his shoulder. "You're so beautiful, y/n," he said, moving his fingers inside me.

And I couldn't help but move my hips back and forth, hoping to feel him even deeper inside me. "You're such a good girl; look at you riding my fingers like a needy slut," his words prompted another moan to escape my mouth.

His free hand came to surround his member as he started to stroke himself while watching me. "I want to do it," I said, wrapping my hand around him, and he smiled before starting to bend his fingers inside me.

I gradually quickened my hand movements around him, and he threw his head back. "N-no, Chris, look at me," I said, moaning and placing my free hand on his cheek.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of you right now," he said, removing his fingers from me to grab a condom from his bag.

In a few seconds, he opened the condom with his teeth, and I stopped stroking him so he could put it on.

He wasted no time in seizing me by the hips and aligning himself with my entrance. He took care to shift my panties to the side before applying pressure to my hips to enter in one swift motion. "Chris!" I almost screamed, burying my head in his neck.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait any longer, ma," he said, groaning and starting to guide my hips up and down.

"Oh my fuck," I said, moaning and throwing my head back.

He took advantage of the moment to bury his head in my neck and kiss me there. "Chris, I—" I said, moaning, and he quickened the movement, I gently pulled his hair. "This is so good; please don't stop."

"Y/n, someone might hear you; you need to stop moaning like that, shit-" he said, lifting his head towards me and grabbing my chin.

"I don't fucking care, Chris; it feels good. I need you to go faster, please," I said, driven solely by my desires at that moment, and he did what I asked, thrusting from below this time.

He grabbed my hips tightly and started giving me fast and deep thrusts. "Oh my god, yes, right there," I said, dropping my head forward.

"Fuck, y/n, shhh," he said, trying his best to hold back his own moans.

I felt like I had become completely dumb; the only thing I could think of at that moment was Chris inside me. The moans coming from me were out of control, so Chris pressed his hand against my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping.

"God, I wish I didn't have to cover your pretty little mouth right now," he whispered without stopping his thrusts.

My lower abdomen tightened as he began to massage my clit. My eyes rolled back, and my hand instinctively gripped Chris's throat, which seemed to shock him momentarily but didn't displease him, judging by the smile that appeared on his face.

I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With my other hand, I removed Chris's hand from my mouth to warn him, "Baby, I'm really close," I said, moaning.

"Me too, ma, let it go," he said through gritted teeth. I locked eyes with him, my mouth open, refraining from letting my moans escape. Chris's brows were furrowed, and he bit his lips to prevent any noise from escaping.

"Chris, oh my god!" I almost screamed, tightening my grip around his neck, letting my orgasm take over.

"Hold on a little longer; I'm almost there babe," he said, breathless, giving me animalistic thrusts before he, too, reached climax and stopped his movements completely.

I let my head fall against his chest with him still inside me, and we both began to chuckle. "I'm going to need a second shower," he said, laughing.

"Well, we don't have time. You'll take one at your place; I have to go home before my parents get worried." I told him, straightening up and placing my hands around his cheeks.

"Hmm," he simply hummed, caressing my ass and kissing me tenderly.

I stood up, readjusted my skirt and panties, while he disposed of the condom and got dressed on his end. "I'm good?" I asked, wanting him to tell me if I was disheveled or if my clothes were misplaced.

"Mhm," he said, nodding, and we both headed towards the exit.

He grabbed me by the arm to kiss me. "I love you, Chris," I said, breaking our kiss with a big smile.

"I love you, baby," he replied before I turned to open the door and stepped out.

I quickly descended from my little cloud when I opened the door and found myself face to face with Chris's coach, who crossed his arms.

"Y/f/n y/l/n! I wouldn't have expected to run into you here," he said, giving me a judgmental look before Chris came out right after. "Chris Sturniolo, what a surprise!"

I looked at Chris anxiously, hoping he could come up with a miracle solution. "Coach, it's not what you think—" he started before being interrupted.

"I don't want to hear anything. Both of you will explain yourselves to the principal tomorrow. Go home now," he responded.

Oh my god, this time I'm really in trouble...

Masterlist.

[hederasgarden]

Stand By Me - Part 3

Summary: When a local ranch hand’s attention evolves into something more sinister, Rhett Abbott becomes an unlikely source of comfort and protection for you. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 4.8K Rating: Mature, future chapters will be explicit and 18+ only. Stalking, anxiety, and Rhett being protective. Future chapters will include some violence. No spoilers for Outer Range. A/N: Welp, here we are a year later. 😬 Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I cannot thank my beta N, @mayhem24-7forever and @whatblogisthis216 enough for their help and support putting this together. Thank you @callsignhurricane for the absolutely gorgeous header.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist | Lewis Pullman Characters Masterlist

"I see you're in with the Abbotts now," your boss remarks, watching Rhett climb into his truck. "Got a phone call from Cecilia this morning about you not closing up by yourself anymore. That woman has a real way about her, all polite-like when she's handing you your ass." 

“Mr. Anderson,” you start, rushing to explain but he waves you off. 

“She was right, of course. I know you got that, er- fella who hangs around too much.”

“My stalker?” You question, your tone harsher than you intend. He looks down at you, surprised. There’s an apology on the tip of your tongue but you resist, meeting his brown eyes. Maybe it’s knowing you had Rhett and Cecilia on your side, or maybe some leftover frustration from the Sheriff. Either way, you don't back down from your statement. 

“I suppose he could be,” Mr. Anderson agrees. “Anyhow, I’ve got Johnny set to close from now on. You go on and tell that to Cecilia now. One dressing down from that woman is enough.”

“I’ll let her know.” 

He nods, patting your shoulder briefly before disappearing into the back office. You exhale and look back out to the empty street. It’s stupid to miss Rhett but a small part of you does. You’re safe in the store; there’s no need to have him here with you. He has a life of his own and a ranch to help run. 

“Was that Rhett Abbott?”

You turn to face the owner of the voice, finding your coworker Sandra watching you excitedly. She’s got that glint in her eye, the one that means she’s not going to let this go easily. Wabang didn’t have a town gossip, but if they did, everyone knows she’d happily take the job. In high school, she was in everyone’s business, spreading rumors and ferreting out information. She never looked twice at you back then, you were too boring and quiet. 

“It was. He just gave me a lift. Not a big deal,” you promise her.

“Uh, nope," she says, popping the p and stopping you with a hand on your arm. "We’re not going to breeze past the fact that you left your car here last night and now the manwhore of Wabang is dropping you off. Spill," she demands.

"We're not…," you start, an automatic denial falling from your lips before you can stop it. She gives you an incredulous look and you stammer out an answer. "It's not a big deal. We're, um, dating," you explain.

"Rhett Abbott doesn't 'date'," she tells you, eyes narrowed. "He has sex with whatever buckle bunny catches his eye.”

“He’s not like that,” you argue, defensive at the way she speaks about him. You know Rhett’s reputation, pretty much everyone does, but you saw a different side of him last night and this morning. You know there’s something more under that charming smile. He listened when no one else did and that means something to you. 

“Honey, please,” she says dismissively. “That boy is nothing but trouble and trash. You best stay away from him."

“Don’t talk about him like that,” you tell her, voice warbling with emotion. “He’s not like everyone says.”

Sandra’s perfectly plucked brows disappear into her hairline. “Alright, alright,” she concedes, hands held up. “Just be careful. He might not stick around after he gets what he wants from you.”

“He’s stuck around the last two months just fine,” you fire back, only realizing after the words are out that you and Rhett never talked about a timeline. 

“Really?” Sandra says, leaning in closer enough for you to catch the fruity scent of the gum she smacks noisily. “That certainty explains why he hasn’t been hanging around the Handsome Gambler lately. I just thought maybe he was getting serious about bull riding or Royal had him on a short leash after the last fight.” She leans back, looking contemplative. “Well, that was some exciting gossip for a Friday morning.”

“Please don’t spread this around,” you ask her, knowing full well she would. Although the idea of people talking about your personal life made your skin crawl, you knew if Rhett were here he’d say it was good. The more it spread, the more likely your stalker would learn of it and back off. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she promises you, crossing her fingers and winking. 

Sandra spends the rest of your time together on her phone, chewing on the endless supply of gum she keeps next to the register. You’re normally not a self involved person but you’re fairly certain she’s texting about you and Rhett. During lunch, you send him a text of your own about your conversation with Sandra. He responds immediately with a thumbs up emoji which doesn’t help your anxiety. What if he was mad? What if he was with another girl at that time and you just screwed up this whole story?

You spend your shift distracted, overthinking what you told Sandra enough that you keep losing track of the inventory you’re working on. Eventually you give up and volunteer to work the till. An unexpectedly busy afternoon keeps your focus on the task at hand and you don’t even notice it’s 5 p.m. until you look up and find Rhett in line for your register, a shopping basket in hand. 

He steps up to the counter and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you return, feeling unexpectedly shy. You stare at him long enough that he clears his throat and nudges the basket towards you.

“You gonna check me out?” he asks, his tone playful. 

Beside you, Sandra scoffs. When you spare her a glance, you find her watching Rhett. His attention, though, is focused on you. 

“What’s all this?” You question, taking out the deadbolt kit and some window locks.

“For your apartment. When I was there last night I saw they could use an update.”

“Rhett…” you trail off, embarrassed. 

He seems to sense your emotions and leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “I think this is the part where you ask me, cash or card,” he whispers. 

“Will that be cash or card?” You ask, thankful for how easily he dispels your discomfort.

After you’ve finished checking him out, you clock out and let him walk you to his truck with an arm around your shoulder.  Once you reach your apartment he pulls out a tool bag from the bed of the truck and says he’ll install the new deadbolt while you get ready. A part of you wants to protest or offer to pay him for the supplies, while another is too embarrassed to draw attention to what he’s doing for you, so instead you say nothing and disappear into your room.

“Pretty sure they’re doing line dancing tonight,” Rhett calls out in between the sounds of the power drill. “You got some boots you can wear?”

“Uh…I think so," you half yell back, staring at the contents of your closet. 

You have to get on your hands and knees and pull aside a few boxes to find a pair of brown boots. The last time you wore them was for high school graduation, back when your grandfather had been alive. You trace the delicate lines of embroidery around the calf, pale pink and periwinkle flowers connected by green vines. There hadn’t been a reason to wear them since, all you did was go to work and come home. 

Tonight seems as good as any and you stand to finish getting dressed. The sundress and jean jacket are a little dated but they’re comfortable and look nice enough. Once you’ve managed to fix your hair and makeup, you return to the living room to find Rhett replacing the old window locks.

The creak in the floor draws his attention to you briefly before his eyes return to the window. A second later they’re back on you. He blinks and stands, clearing his throat. 

“I think I’m ready," you announce. 

“You, ah, look real nice,” he tells you, nodding. “I like the flowers.” 

“Thanks. You look nice too,” you add, touching your neck self-consciously when he doesn’t immediately speak again but keeps watching you.

“Well…we should probably get going then.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching Rhett gather up his tools. “Thanks again for installing that stuff.” 

Rhett nods. “I’ll finish up with the other windows tomorrow.”

The drive to the bar is quiet. Rhett’s fingers drum on the steering wheel as you wait at the stoplight. You cycle through potential conversation openers but discard them all. Nothing feels right, and you realize that the sour pit in your stomach only grows the closer you get to the Handsome Gambler. 

Would he be there tonight you wondered? Just the thought of seeing him is enough to make your breath come quickly and your hands tremble. You exhale and close your eyes, trying to get yourself together. Rhett is here. 

When the engine cuts out you look up, eyes drawn to the neon glow of the Handsome Gambler’s sign. Rhett’s quick to meet you at the curb, offering his arm. You curl your hand around his bicep and he draws you close. At this time of night, the bar is busy, humming with energy and conversation. Rhett navigates the crowd with ease, exchanging brief hellos with a few people, finally stopping at an empty booth. You slide in and he follows. 

“Want a beer?” He asks.

You’re not much of a drinker but you nod anyway. Rhett flags down a waitress and a few minutes later two cold beers are dropped off at your table. You fiddle with the label as Rhett takes a long swig and leans back, shoulders relaxing. When you sense him watching, you bring the bottle to your lips and take a drink. It’s cold and a little bitter on your tongue. Your distaste for it must show because Rhett cocks his head to the side with a faint smile on his lips.

“I can order you something else,” he offers. “Wine? Something fruity?”

“Maybe something fruity… honestly though this is okay. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Rhett shakes his head and flags down the waitress again, ordering you a daiquiri. “It won’t go to waste,” he assures you, pulling the beer toward him.

You return his smile as he rests his arm along the back of the booth. His fingertips hover just above your shoulder, not quite touching your jacket. This close to him you can smell his cologne, faint and a little musky but nice. Everything about this is surprisingly nice, including the way his denim-clad leg presses against yours, warm and firm. 

“He’s not here,” Rhett announces and you look up at him sharply. He’s still scanning the bar as he sips from his beer. For one silly moment, you forgot why you were even here, something that seemed impossible earlier. 

“Should we go?” You ask Rhett.

You’d only come to make it clear to the man that you were with Rhett.

“What?” Rhett’s brow furrows as he glances at you. “Why? You wanna go?”

“No.” You shake your head just as the waitress arrives with your drink. “We came so he’d see…”

“There’s more than one way to make sure he knows,” Rhett tells you, pushing up the brim of his hat before leaning in close. You can feel his breath against your cheek. “Look to your right, past the pool tables. You see those men?” You nod, watching the rowdy group in the corner playing darts as you absently sip your drink. 

“They all work at the Dustin ranch, including the one in the baseball cap who keeps looking at us.” At that moment, the man in question stands up for his turn and looks back, meeting your eyes. If he is surprised to find you looking, he doesn’t show it. He holds your gaze for a second before glancing at Rhett who smirks and waves. His expression doesn’t change but when he turns back you catch a brief flash of something.

“He’ll make sure Jimmy gets the message that you’re with me.”

“Jimmy?”

“Your stalker," Rhett clarifies. "After I dropped you off this morning I paid a friend of mine a visit that’s friendly with the foreman of the Dustin ranch. That’s the man’s name. He hangs out with the guy in the baseball cap, Rick.” 

“Oh.” You stare at the table, trying to process the information Rhett gave you.

When he says your name softly you realize several minutes have passed in silence. “Sorry, I….” you trail off and look back at the man with the baseball cap. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Rhett says. “This is a lot.”

You nod, lips pressed together because you don’t trust yourself to speak. 

“Line dancing looks fun,” he notes, taking a swig of beer. “Might be a nice distraction and you can put those fancy boots to good use.”

“They’re not fancy,” you defend. 

“Hmmm, don’t look like nothing I’ve seen at the feed store,” he teases. “Come on.” He stands and offers his hand. 

You let him pull you up and follow him to the dance floor as Vince Gill’s What The Cowgirls Do fades from the speakers and a soft, more subdued song  plays. The crowd thins and you realize the remaining dancers are pairing up. Rhett doesn’t seem deterred by the change in music, grasping your right hand and wrapping his left arm loosely around your body. His palm rests firmly on your shoulder blade, pulling your body close to his. After a moment of hesitation, you settle your left arm on his bicep.

“It’s been a while since I’ve danced like this,” you admit, watching how easily the other couples move around the dance floor. 

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Rhett promises, surging forward and taking you with him. 

You stumble a little but he’s quick to adjust his pace for you, whispering words of encouragement. Maybe it's how Rhett guides you around the dance floor or some long buried muscle memory from high school but soon enough you’re moving in sync. Then he raises his arm to spin your body in a circle before quickly drawing you back into his arms. When he does it again a second time, a breathless laugh escapes you. 

“Atta girl,” Rhett says, drawing you closer. 

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over when he speaks those two simple words. The world narrows to Rhett’s handsome face, his blue eyes dark pools in the dim light. Your chest constricts, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. It’s only when someone else bumps into the two of you and the spells breaks that you realize a new, more upbeat song is playing. 

Rhett’s lashes flutter and he releases you, his gaze falling away a moment later. 

“Beer’s probably getting warm,” he says and you hum your agreement, letting him lead you back to your seat.

Before you can make it, two men you don’t recognize stop Rhett. 

“Shit, that you Abbott?” The shorter one questions, swaying on his feet. 

You watch Rhett for his reaction, only relaxing when he smiles. “Smitty.”

“Heard you’re riding tomorrow.”

“I am,” Rhett agrees.

“Damn,now we gotta go to see that,” he tells his friend before turning his attention to you. “Did you know your boyfriend's one of the best damn bull riders in these parts?" He asks. 

You’re not sure what to say so you just nod. 

“You guys gotta come get a drink with us,” Smitty says. 

“Thanks, but my girl and I were about to head out,” Rhett says, capturing your hand in his. “Y'all have a good night.”

My girl. 

Rhett uses that phrase so casually, like he’s done it 100 times before. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a world where it’s true, losing yourself in the fantasy long enough to miss the rest of their conversation. When Smitty and his friend stumble away, Rhett leads you back to the booth where  your daiquiri has all but melted. If Rhett’s beer is warm, he doesn’t show it, finishing it off in one gulp. 

“If you want to get a drink with your friends…,” you start hesitantly.

Rhett’s quick to cut you off with a shake of his head.  “Not with those two dipshits. They’re fun for sure but… trouble too.”

You turn to face him. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He waves your comment away, grinning with one side of his mouth. “Maybe, but it aint suitable for girls with flowers on their boots.” 

The rest of the evening passes surprisingly easy, so much so that before you know it, it’s nearly midnight and you’ve all but forgotten about Jimmy and the man in the hat. Rhett pays your bill with cash and walks you to his car, keeping a hand on your lower back. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, Rhett turns off the truck and leans forward to look out the windshield.

“Want me to stay the night?” He asks, leaning back. 

You do, but you’re aware of just how much he’s done for you already; staying over last night and pretending with you at the bar. You should decline and let him go home to sleep in a real bed but behind him you can see the dark windows of your apartment and the words catch in your throat. 

“Never was an Eagle Scout,” he starts, pulling a black duffle bag from behind the seat, “but I came prepared.”

You stare at the bag, surprised, and when you look back at Rhett he gives you that half smile of his, brow arched. You find yourself nodding before you can think too hard about it.

“Alright,” Rhett says, opening his door, “come on.”

That night you sleep better than you have in weeks and when the morning comes, you quietly slip out of your bedroom.  Rhett is already up, a mug of coffee in hand. He looks lost in thought, a deep crease between his brows but his expression clears when he sees you. 

“Made coffee,” he says, raising his mug. “Hope that was alright.”

“Of course,” you’re quick to tell him. 

“I won't be able to pick you up after work,” Rhett says, following you into the kitchen and leaning back against the counter. “Gotta be at the rodeo early but my Ma said she’d be there.”

“Okay.” You yawn as you doctor your coffee to make it sweet enough to drink.

“Looks like I kept you out too late,” he observes, watching you over the rim of his mug. 

“No, it was…” you pause searching for the right word but come up short. “I appreciate it,” you finally settle on. 

Rhett nods, looking away. “It’s nothing.”

When he sets his empty mug in the sink, you head back to your room and get ready for work.  Once you’re dressed, you reach for the beat-up tennis shoes you always wear, stopping short when you see your boots from last night. You hesitate for only a second before slipping them on instead. 

Rhett drops you off with a kiss on your cheek and a wave to Sandra, who watches the two of you from the front window display. The day passes uneventfully, without any sign of Jimmy. A little after 6 pm the Abbotts come to collect you. Cecilia is warm and open, asking about work while Royal drives, glancing at you occasionally in the rearview mirror. You’ve only met Rhett’s father in passing and always found him to be an intimidating man. Tonight he’s mostly silent, only chiming in when you tell Cecilia about an issue that happened today with Donald Everrtt’s lumber order.

“That man’s got more cows than sense,” Royal grumbles and you laugh when Cecilia chastises him.

Leaning back and gazing out the window, you think about your own parents. They weren’t so different from Rhett’s and you’d forgotten how nice something as simple as this could feel. Thinking of them hurts like it always does and you swallow around the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by listening to Cecilia and Royal talk about Rhett and the bull he’s meant to ride tonight. 

When you arrive at the rodeo, it’s loud and chaotic. The announcer booms something about the bull riding beinging soon. It doesn’t escape your notice that Royal and Cecilia keep you between them as they guide you through the crowd of people to the metal bleachers where Rhett’s brother and his family are waiting. Their daughter, Amy, is quick to question you once you’re seated. 

“Are you Uncle Rhett’s girlfriend?” she asks, leaning around Cecilia to see you.

You stare at her, unsure how to answer with so many people around. Rhett had shared the plan with his parents but you weren’t sure who else knew the truth. Your silence makes Amy’s  little brows furrow, a look so reminiscent of her uncle that it almost makes you smile. 

Thankfully Cecilia interjects before you have to figure out what to say. “Yes, Amy.”

Before Amy can ask you any more questions, her mother suggests they get some popcorn. Once they disappear, Perry takes a swig from the flask in his boot, and when he sees his mother looking, he makes a face.

“Come on Ma,” he grumbles, but Cecilia pins him with a silent, angry look and he eventually puts the flask away, sighing heavily.

There are several riders before Rhett and you watch each of them get thrown from their bull with increasing anxiety. You search for him among the crowd of riders at the far end of the fence. When you spot him, you’re surprised to find he’s watching you. He grins, tipping his hat. It’s such a simple gesture, but it fills you with a fluttering warmth that lasts long after he looks away to acknowledge his parents. 

When it’s finally Rhett’s turn to ride, you rub your hands on your thighs anxiously. The buzzer goes off and you flinch as the gate is ripped open. The world narrows to Rhett, the bull, and the sound of your own breathing. The seconds tick past agonizingly slow until he’s thrown from the bull. 

Dust flies and the bull stomps. You stand up, searching until you find him stock still in the dirt. You make a small, terrified sound and Royal touches your shoulder drawing your gaze. 

“He’s okay. Just got the breath knocked from him,” he assures you. 

You look at Cecilia who seems just as concerned but then a second later the bull is gone and Rhett stands. His gaze is focused on the scoreboard but you watch him. His expression is serious, lips pressed into a thin line as his chest heaves. Then suddenly he smiles, open joy written across his features and the crowd cheers. When you look up his name is first on the board. 

Beside you, Royal yells and Perry sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. Cecilia shouts his name and Amy jumps with excitement. You expect Rhett to come straight to his parents but he makes a beeline for you, climbing up the bleachers and past people with ease. 

“Rhett,” you start, whatever you were going to say cut short by his lips on yours. The kiss is intense but brief. When he pulls away, he looks as surprised as you feel. You stare at one another before suddenly he’s pulled back by an older man who claps him on the shoulder. More people push forward to offer him congratulations. 

“Let him hear you one more time,” the announcer encourages. “Ladies and gentlemen, your hometown hero, Rhett Abbott!”

You touch your lips, mind working hard to process what just happened. Rhett looks back, eyes glued to yours as he’s pulled back into the ring.

“Come on sweetheart,” Cecilia urges, patting your arm. “Let’s wait for him at the other end. Less people.”

You can’t see her eyes under the brim of your hat but you suddenly realize she and about a hundred other people just witnessed what Rhett did. You have no idea what his parents must think. There’s another feeling under the embarrassment and awkwardness that you don’t investigate too closely. 

“Well that was something,” Royal says and you glance up at him sharply before you realize he’s talking about Rhett’s ride. 

Cecilia smiles. “He’s gonna ride next weekend in the finals for sure.”

“I knew he’d make it,” Royal says proudly and you smile at both of them, nodding your agreement. 

After a few minutes, Perry arrives alone. “It was getting late so I thought it best Amy went home,” he tells the three of you, hands on his hips. “She can celebrate with us tomorrow.”

“Hmmm and I suppose you’re gonna help your brother celebrate tonight?” Cecilia asks, judgment clear in her tone.

“Yeah. Handsome Gambler,” he confirms, clapping Rhett on the back as he arrives. “You’ll be drinking for free, that’s for sure.” 

“Did you consider that your brother might not want to go?” Cecilia asks, looking at you pointedly. 

“Oh, that’s alright. We can go,” you say, feeling even more awkward.

Perry grins and leans in. This close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Great, I’ll get us a booth.”

He disappears before Rhett even has a chance to speak. Cecilia sighs and Royal rubs her back. “Nothing wrong with having a little fun,” he reminds her.

“I know,” she concedes. “But be safe,” she adds, looking intently at Rhett.

“I will,” he promises her, nodding seriously.  

Cecilia offers you a tight hug, promising to stop by the store later in the week. Once she and Royal are gone, you’re alone with Rhett. He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. 

“I’m sorry.” He pauses, looking back at you. “For the kiss. I shoulda asked if you were okay with that. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay. It uh, was good. Lots of people saw. That’s the point right?”

He stares at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah, that’s the point," he agrees, finally before his gaze flicks away. “But, we don’t have to go to the Gambler tonight. Perry’s just… Perry,” he finishes with a long suffering sigh. 

You think about how excited he was before and what tonight means for him. He’d done so much for you lately, the least you could do was go with him to the bar. There was no way he’d drop you off and home and go alone. You had fun with him last night after all. Maybe tonight would be just as nice. 

“We can go,” you tell him but he frowns, clearly unconvinced. It’s late and you’re tired but it isn’t hard to manage a genuine smile for him. “Afterall, I brought my dancing boots,” you add, pulling up your jeans to reveal them. 

“Alright,” he agrees, his expression lightening. 

The bar is more crowded than last night and Rhett keeps you close. Everyone wants to talk to him, including Maria. You can’t help but feel jealous at the way she lays a hand on Rhett’s arm and leans in close to speak to him. She’s even more beautiful than she was in high school when half the town knew he’d been in love with her.

Watching them together and seeing the easy way he smiled at her, you wonder if he still is. That makes your chest ache, which is silly. You and Rhett weren’t actually together. Nothing, from the dance last night to his kiss earlier, was real. It was an act because you caught the wrong kind of attention. Suddenly, you want to be anywhere but here. You take a step away but Rhett’s quick to face you, his hand shooting out to grasp your elbow.

You lean in to be heard over the din of the bar. “I need to use the restroom but Perry said he can come with me,” you lie, looking over your shoulder at his brother. 

“I can come,” Rhett tells you, setting his beer down. 

You wave him off. “Catch up with your friends.”

When you realize Rhett doesn’t turn around immediately you’re forced to actually ask Perry. He agrees and finishes off his beer, following after you a little unsteady. You take your time in the bathroom, splashing water on your face and staring at your reflection. It’s quiet here but your mind is buzzing. You close your eyes and sigh. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, lost in thought but eventually a toilet flushes and you stand straight. You were being selfish, Rhett deserved to celebrate tonight without worrying over you. 

With a deep breath you head back into the bar, searching for Perry. When you left he was leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone. Now he’s nowhere to be found. You only make it a few steps before someone’s hand closes around your wrist and tugs you back. You spin around, half expecting to find Rhett but it’s not him. 

Green eyes meet yours. 

“Hi baby,” Jimmy says, smiling. 

[clairdelunelove]

call me

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (rescue drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of motorcyclist!ghost, protective!ghost

synopsis: the downtime after missions was rarely a time that ghost looked forward to. everyone's aware to leave him alone during this period. that is, until he gets a call from you asking for his help to rescue you from an awkward situation!

a.n. wOW! hi lovelies, it's been a while! I was inspired to write this because something similar happened to me at an anime convention! and yes it was with a mw 2019 jawbone ghost cosplayer hehe (¬‿¬) oh, here's my kofi! and pls enjoy! <3

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obsessed with the idea that ghost would drop everything and come running to you if you called him. 

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the conclusion of an operation was, albeit, a bit bittersweet for ghost. sure, he benefited from the downtime of not being in an environment that constantly triggered his fight or flight response and a small break was necessary for his well-being to avoid pushing past his physical limitations. yet, those were the only beneficial factors he could conjure up. most operators took advantage of the intermission to catch up with friends at pubs or visit family for a couple days– a luxury he never allowed himself to have. thus, he spent the days of rest endlessly secluded. trapped within the barren walls of his flat. choosing to occupy his time thumbing through a nonfiction novel or finishing some exterior maintenance. he referred to his living space as a place to rest his chaos. to ease his hardships into a lasting slumber– that is, until he’d receive intel about a new operation. and his home was an enigma of great strength accompanied with struggle, providing a solitude that ghost was well acquainted with. he preferred it that way. no one reaches out to him during this time of isolation. which is why he doesn’t expect your name to flash on his phone’s screen and it’s even more astounding that he chooses to pick up the call. 

ghost who leans low enough that his leg almost touches the smooth asphalt when he cruises down the road. the sleek, pitch-black motorcycle adapts easily when he wrenches the steel handlebars. after adjusting in his seat, his gloved hands rev to intensify the speed while his mind recalls the conversation he had with you. approximately two minutes ago. the way you quietly pleaded, “could you please come and get me?” and immediately, the lack of context backed with the sticky hoarseness in your voice awakened unease within him. “you hurt?” his instinctive question is followed with a gruff, “who do I need to talk to.” and the sheer seriousness of his threat forces a minor giggle to leave your lips. the sound encourages him to mull over possibilities. where were you? where could you be right now? think, damn it, think. he drags a heavy hand across his face while vaguely remembering the lighthearted conversation you had earlier in the week. a pair of squad members had politely asked about your weekend plans to which you shared that you planned to get some grocery shopping out of the way. a mundane answer that pulled a couple laughs. but now, the rather ordinary task seemed to evolve into a nightmare as he hears you suck in a wobbly breath. “you still in town, sweetheart?” ghost forces his voice steady despite the crazed way he’s tugging on his shoes and shoving away stray papers to retrieve his keys. you instantly respond that you are and he tries not to dwell on the chance that his presence might’ve helped calm your nervousness. compels himself to solve the blatant issue before figuring out why his decision-making is so sudden. why he’s swiftly weaving through traffic in hopes of finding you when he should be relaxing at his flat. but his voice rumbles out of your phone’s speaker when he instructs, “stay put. I’ll come get you.” 

ghost who visibly tenses up when he spots you from the crowd of shoppers. most are occupied in their own business; choosing from a variety of commodities or paying for their groceries at the checkout line. but that’s not what he’s here for. treading through aisles, his appearance manages to raise curiosity from a couple onlookers before they tactfully glance away from the massive man. having one’s identity partially hidden away by layers of clothing while clutching onto a motorcycle helmet tends to facilitate that reaction from the average citizen. it works in his favor. his heavy-lidded eyes scan the room and before long he recognizes a tuft of your hair. he figured his first encounter with you would be under different circumstances, albeit more jovial and perhaps you’d grace him with one of those blinding smiles that you reserve solely for him. however, all he sees is vermillion flooding his vision. you’re backed into a secluded corner of the store by a sleazy man who’s testing his luck. unfortunately for the stranger, ghost was never a believer of good fortune. you venture to put more distance between you and the man but to no avail. he inches closer. “like I said earlier,” you strive to keep your tone of voice stable, “he’s on his way already. I don’t need a ride.” a courageous act but the guy is already responding. a shoddy decision, in ghost’s opinion, because upon hearing the stranger’s crude innuendo, ghost’s nails form crescents within his palms from how fiercely he’s balling his fists. sees you shrink from the words. and he’s a reaper with the sole mission to deliver punishment.

ghost who eases beside you and subtly reaches to touch your shoulder while murmuring, “I’ve got you.” his voice leaves his lips in a soothing drawl that has you inwardly crooning. safety is synonymous with him. always is. initially checks in with you before engaging in conversation with the stranger. you’re top priority. “simon?” his name is a relieved gasp from your plush lips. clearly you weren’t expecting him to step into the situation with hopes of diffusing it. he slowly tilts his head, “told ya I’d come.” mentions it like it’s a common occurrence that he spends his downtime shutting down harassment directed towards you. yet the first observation you make is that he’s dressed rather casually. clad in an ash-colored hoodie and denim jeans that always cause you to wonder whether he has them tailored because of how well they fit his physique. the homey outfit is a sight to behold considering you typically saw him in uniform; you ravished the domestic image. burnt it into your memory for safe keeping. apparently, so does ghost. “you look proper cozy today.” waving a gloved hand, he indicates your casual outfit and the sudden change of topic prompts a small grin to form on your face. which, ultimately, is his entire plan. dragging your eyes to a sudden motion, you watch as he rolls his sleeves up to reveal a swirl of veins and intricately tatted skin. he’s mystifying; everything about him is– which seemingly adds to his appeal and no matter how vigorously you fight against it, you can’t help but feel the inevitable pull. “don’t get any ideas, sweetheart.” of course the comment is meant to scold but the breathy rasp in his voice morphs it into pure sin. he shoots you an inquisitive glance when he regards your heated gaze and wordlessly chastises your behavior with a raise of his dark brows. 

ghost who absolutely resents whenever someone interrupts you. the act itself is rude beyond doubt but it’s especially ignorant when it concerns you. and the tacky stranger had the audacity to do it in front of ghost. from beneath his mask, he clenches his jaw when the other man decides to open his mouth to continue conversing with you. again. ghost shifts, positioning himself between the two of you, and spits out the words, “you’re doing me ‘ead in. do one, will ya?” his tone is level, devoid of any expletives in his question yet his manchester accent is gravelly enough for his words to border a threat. the manifestation of trouble. he pushes up his sleeves for good measure. truth be told, ghost would’ve simply told the other man to ‘piss off.’ perhaps give him the finger. but you were around and he favored appearing posh. 

ghost who basks in the gratifying burn of watching the stranger scurry away from just his words. runs like a scruffy dog getting caught going through a trash bin and he bites back a snicker. but who wouldn’t run from ghost? dressed as the embodiment of shadows and danger. probably his physique too, if he was being honest. towering at six feet and some more. he states, “don’t think the bloke was fond of me.” can’t refrain from the mockery that lines his words. perhaps the possessiveness was corrupting him more than he imagined. he glances at you, paying special regard to the way the corners of your lips curl at his remark, “suppose you’re right. I appreciate you coming, by the way.” isn’t quite sure why you’re thanking him. he’d rush to you whenever you needed him. but he dismisses it with a throaty, “not a problem.” and it dawns on him that the two of you are alone. away from the prying eyes of the task force members. surrounded by the normalcy of civilian life. and the motorcycle gear that he’s adorned with seems obvious that there’s more to him than he lets on. like the fact that he rushed here without a second doubt. there’s a glimmer in your eyes and he’s aware that your mind is racing with possibilities. “I wonder,” there’s a playfulness in your tone as you shift closer to him, “what was lieutenant riley up to before coming to my rescue?”  

ghost who exhibits the duality of man when he’s with you. his voice gets caught in his throat and he promptly answers, “nothin'.” because you’re placing a gentle hand on his forearm. vanquishes him to a robot that can only utter a single word from a single touch. this wasn’t what he was like before; the esteemed protector with a jealous streak. no, he’s reduced to a pining jumble of tenderness for you. even through the layers of clothing he recognizes your warmth and yearns for it. you gaze up at him through your lashes, a telltale sign that his lack of plans served as an invitation to propose more. he knows that look. “you’re quite a secretive man, simon,” you teasingly narrow your eyes, “has anyone ever told you that?” your fingertips trace the swirls of ink on his arm and he desperately tries to fight against the way his eyes drop into a half-lidded stare. your touch always reduces him to a puddle of adoration. “no,” he breathes out and hopes to convey his ardor in irony, “never.” knows you’re grinning at his automatic responses and heat bubbles within him. 

ghost who allows your caress to dip down to his wrist which, conveniently, was the hand that held onto his motorcycle helmet. watches as you draw delicate patterns on the helmet’s shell. recognizes that you’re working up courage. for what, he's not sure. maybe you’ll ask him how long he’s been a motorcyclist. that’s typically the first question that’s settled. but nothing could prepare him for your honeyed voice that asks, “can I ride?” and how you use him as leverage to push up on your tiptoes and pleadingly whisper, “please?” he's pretty certain that you mean getting a ride on his motorcycle. yet, with the way your lips are practically pressing against his neck and how the heat of your breath forces him to stifle a groan of satisfaction, all logic flies out the window. pure, unadulterated hunger for you seizes ghost in an unexplainable grasp. he needs you. wishes he could whisk you away to someplace else. perhaps to his place. gosh, he appreciated the downtime after a mission. “bloody vixen,” he murmurs lowly while slipping the helmet into your hands, “it’s all yours, sweetheart.” on his motorcycle it typically takes 10 minutes flat to get to his place or 7 minutes if he turns a blind eye to the speed limit– which is an act he’s willingly committed before. 

[oceane4loveu]

𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧. ݁₊ ⊹ ✩

Heyyyyy starfish! So now we're going to talk about how to create an alter ego and how it can be beneficial.

What is an alter ego?

Expression borrowed from Latin. A second self. A person to whom one grants absolute confidence and who is charged with acting in one's place. We also say colloquially: It's my alter ego, It's another me. So the alter ego is just another version of us that helps us reach a goal, some celebrities also use alter egos to evolve in their lives:

Beyoncé- Sasha Fierce: Beyoncé created the alter ego Sasha Fierce to express a bolder and more confident version of herself on stage.

Nicki Minaj- Roman Zolanski: Nicki Minaj has several alter egos, including Roman Zolanski, an eccentric and provocative character who represents a wilder side of her personality.

Lady Gaga- Jo Calderone: Lady Gaga has portrayed Jo Calderone, a male character, in some performances, exploring themes of gender fluidity and identity.

Now it's time to define the why. The why: the purpose of the alter ego, why I create it. Is it to leave weaknesses, adopt personality traits, etc. IT MUST BE STRONG, THAT'S WHAT KEEPS YOU CONSISTENT.

Then choose New traits. Things I miss or struggle with. Personality, values, hobbies. Why I admire certain people. understand every little insignificant detail of my alter ego. How would he act in a stressful situation. How does he approach his career, his dating. What is his state of mind in a romantic relationship. How does he act if he feels mistreated and angry. How would he act if he fell in love. How would he fix a bad day, what does a good day look like for him. If he speaks in public, how does he approach it? Funny, serious, is there any preparation, freestyle. Here are some steps to help you (I do them to create my alter ego)

1.MYSELF

My aura

My mindset

My confidence

My personality traits

What do I look like?

What do I dress like?

2.MONEY

How financial abundant I am?

Where do I invest my money?

What kind of things do I splurge on?

How do I save my money?

What does my money get me? Is it the freedom of time, is it luxury goods, is it travel...?

How do I get this money?

How do I make it work for me?

3. CAREER AND OPPORTUNITIES

What do I want my job to look like?

How often do I work?

Am I my own boss or do I work for someone else?

In what industry do I work?

What is my work / life balance like?

What does my office (workplace) look like?

What city am I working in?

Do I want to be around celebrities / in front of a camera / do something creative / fly over the world / win awards for what I do / be able to retire early, etc?

4. FRIENDS AND FAMILY

How is my relationships with my family?

How often do I see them?

How many effort do I put in them?

Can I treat them all the time?

How is my relationships with my family?

How often do I see them?

How are my friends like?

5. ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

How am I treated in my romantic relationship?

How do I feel loved?

What love language am I receiving?

What me and my partner do?

How do we spend time together?

Do we move in?

Do we get married?

Do we have kids?

What do our dates look like?

What do I do for them?

What is our dynamic?

6. HOUSE / LIVING

The city that I live in

What does my house / apartment look like?

What does it feel like?

What do I gain from it? Is it sense of escape?

How many room do I have in it?

How is my closet?

How many bathroom do I have?

What it is a special things I have in my house / apartment?

7. HOBBIES AND HAPPINESS

How do I add fulfillment into my life on an everyday basis?

What are my hobbies?

What are my routines?

8. pleasure

How do I spend my weekends? How do they look like? Is it cozy at home, traveling the world, partying with my friends, etc?

What do I eat?

What kind of exercises do I do?

Choose your avatar: how your alter ego appears. Give a different name, change appearance, hairstyle, makeup, clothes.

Values ​​and core identity. Think about their story. What is important to them. Where do they want to go in life. What they are not as interested in. Preferences, strengths, what motivates them. What has been their story so far. Maybe they have always been successful, have good memories. Very good athlete, A+ student, etc.

The When. When to bring out the alter ego. At university, at work, in meetings or every day. For this part here are some methods that can help you bring out your alter ego:

"HOT ME METHOD"

- "What would a hot me do?"

- don't idolize your alter ego, it's not better than you.

- If necessary, the alter ego can have a set time and date (turn it off after the necessary time has passed)

- Practice:

- How does the sexy version of yourself walk, talk, and dress?

- Values? Habits? similar to the "steps"

- what bold moves have you been wanting to try? - This method is not just about appearance, it is more about changing your mindset and actions

- Implementing habits, developing skills and intelligence, being able to speak with confidence

- NOT a subliminal that maximizes appearance, NOT forcing parts you feel uncomfortable with (wearing a crop top, pleasing people, etc.)

"BUILD YOUR SELF-CONCEPT"

- Self-Concept (SC) = how we see ourselves (REALLY believe about ourselves, not what we say)

- "I am blessed/cursed", "My opinions matter/don't matter to people", "I am lucky/unlucky", etc.

- Alter ego can help expand what you think you deserve/what is normal for you

- Consciousness = perception = reality

- Believe that you HAVE THE POWER to change, you have the power to change your personal reality

Now let's talk about my alter ego! Her name is soo-ah which is a Korean name that means Beautiful Oceans. Why did I choose this name? Because my first name also means ocean so I thought it was the perfect name for my alter ego.

As for my alter ego, she is introverted but has a group of lovely friends, she is funny and laughs a lot, she has a mysterious aura, she does her dream job, she travels and has a lot of hobbies, she takes care of herself, she heals her trauma, has a healthy relationship, she reads a lot, she does the best for herself…

I made a playlist of music that reminds me of her that I will listen to every morning to help me feel like her. I prefer high vibration music to stay motivated because the songs of the weeknd make me less energetic I find.

To visualize what my alter ego could look like, I used the everskies app and created a simple vision board

That's all! On Monday when I go to work I'm going to give way to my alter ego and see how things evolve! I hope this helps you!

ﾒ𝟶𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞

[miley1442111]

can we have more of rafe x thornton!reader? maybe Rafe and reader getting in a fight and Topper getting mad about it

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===============

work it out- r.cameron

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a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I love pushing the rafe x thornton reader agenda :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! thornton! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the request

warnings: talk of addiction, talk of feeling unsafe with your partner, uncomfortable situations, Topper gets mad, rafe cries.

+ this rafe is not show-accurate, this is another universe where he can express emotions and recognise how his action affect others :)

not entirely proofread

===============

Evolving your brother in a fight between you and Rafe was previously unheard of, but this argument had really taken the cake. Weeks and weeks of the same fucking problem that Rafe just really refused to fix. You understood that it was difficult, you knew he was trying, and you were grateful that he was trying. Yet, every fucking weekend you were called or texted by one of your friends to go and rescue Rafe from a party because he was too high or drunk to function. Then, when you’d come and pick him up, he’d be completely handsy and annoying, to the point of sometimes making you uncomfortable. The places were dangerous or random, full of guys who thought they could grab or grope you just because. 

“He’s such a piece of shit!” you groaned to Sarah, she was technically here to visit Topper, but left him in his room when he fell asleep to come talk to you.

“What did Rafe do now?” Top scoffed as he leaned against your doorway. 

“None of your business,” you shot back, wiping your eyes subtly. “You can have your girlfriend back if you want,” you sighed.

He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Sarah, and they went back into his room. 

===============

“I’m not supposed to tell you what happened,” Sarah admitted as they watched a movie. “But Y/n’s really upset with Rafe and she has a good reason. Rafe keeps putting her in these really dangerous situations and he isn’t stopping.”

“What do you mean by dangerous?” 

“He keeps making her pick her up from druggie dens and shit, it’s awful-”

“Y/n!” Topper shouted, shooting up from his bed and running to your door. He swung it open to see you on your bed with Rafe climbing in the window. “He is not allowed in our house anymore, you tow need to break up right fucking now.”

Topper was not usually the kind of guy to put his foot down like that, so it had to have been serious. You looked at Sarah, who wore a guilty look on her face.

“Top, it’s not a big deal, I’m making it sound worse than it was,” you defended as Rafe stood by the window, confused.

Topper turned his attention to Rafe. “You’re making my little sister pick you up from Barry’s? Hm? That’s how you treat your girlfriend? That’s how you’re treating my little sister?” 

Rafe looked down, angry and ashamed. “I don’t ask her to-”

“You’re too damn high to ask her! Someone else has to call her to pick your ass up!” Top shouted. “Y’know, I was so sure you’d actually keep her safe, that’s the only fucking reason I ever gave you two my blessing. You’re pathetic-”

“Top!” you interjected. “That’s not fucking fair. He’s an addict and he’s trying. He’s 3 weeks clean today, alright? He’s trying.”

“Not hard enough. You should’ve never been put in a position like that-”

“But I was. And look at me, I’m here, and I’m alive, and I’m fine. And Rafe already feels fucking awful about it, so I don’t need you to come bulldozing on your high fucking horse, Top. You don’t understand it, I don’t understand it, but I’m here because I love Rafe, and I support him. I don’t care what you do, but you don’t control my life Topper. Neither does Rafe, nor anyone else. I made the choice to go get him every time. I could’ve asked you, or just left him, but no. I went and got him, knowing what would happen. And maybe that was stupid, but I made that choice, no one forced my hand in that. And I should be able to talk to my friend about something that stopped happening a month ago, without you bursting into my room like you own it. Let me and Rafe be Topper,” you explained. Topper was silent, so was Rafe. Sarah pulled Sarah back into his room and you and Rafe stood in your room in silence for a few moments. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and took your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and lifted your other hand to his cheek, wiping away a tear. “I know you are.”

“I feel like I failed you,” He admitted, sitting on your bed and pulling you between his legs, wrapping his arms around you. “I feel like such a failure.”

You gently stroked his hair as he unloaded about his addiction.

“I just… sometimes it’s so fucking hard and I just want to throw it all out the window and get high, and I just feel really guilty when I think that, because it’s not fair on me or the people around me to be like this, but it’s just so fucking hard.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this Rafe,” you whispered. 

“I’m sorry I brought you into this,” he answered. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I promise.”

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[dollcherray]

YAYY REQUEST IS OPEN!!| May i ask for Blackhat x Reader? like, the reader is his assistant and he has a crush on the reader ( you can change your story to your liking :] )

-⚡︎

꩜.ᐟ BLACK HEART ｡𖦹°‧

ᛝྀི BLACK HAT X ASSISTANT READER

✧₊⁺ Notes: Sorry for the wait!! this flu really got me fucked up, but here it is! I did my best for this one lololol, reader can be read as any gender, Black hat is a tad toxic in this (i mean its Black hat), this bitch loves scaring you, probably ooc too (idk, that's up to your view) it gets a little touchy, HES HAWT GODAYUM. not proofread btw LMAO

ᯓ★ Type: Romantic, Fluff, Headcanons

⋆.˚ Song: Masochism Tango.

۶ৎ Black hat would be... a tad frustrated with the fact he has fallen for you, he wouldn't be in denial, no, far from it, he's not Flug for fuck's sake, he's a mature man, he knows his feelings. The man would just probably not be very pleased with the scenario of him having such 'trivial feelings' (in his words) especially for someone like you, his assistant.

۶ৎ Black Hat is kinda of a gentleman (in his own sadistic and twisted way of course), we could see that in the satellite secrets episode how Black hat treated the woman in the novel, so his treatment towards you is a mixture of courtesy and sadistic psychological torture.

۶ৎ Even if he also scares you from time to time, you can clearly point out the shameless favoritism Black hat has for you, he doesn't really insults you like he does with the other 3, he slightly gives you more approval than he gives the others everytime you do something right.

۶ৎ For example: if he ever sends you with the others to complete a mission, he would credit you more than the others, saying that you did a "decent" job different than the other 3 "mediocre slaves". (Flug is jealous btw)

۶ৎ Black hat would compare the others to you every time he gets the chance, saying that you actually put effort and time on your job, that you are way more efficient when doing your daily given tasks, that may or may not create some sort of rivalry between you guys... (it will.)

۶ৎ Wanting it or not Black hat would naturally try to hide his little crush on you, he can't stand the possibility of people seeing the 'terrifying and great Black hat' vulnerable, its expectable coming from him honestly.

۶ৎ He would probably grow impatient and he will eventually get too intimate with you at some point, it would start off slow, a simple touch on your shoulders would evolve into him straight up holding you close, caressing your arm and acts like that. (nawh blud is getting freaky).

۶ৎ Once he's like that, expect more "affection" coming on your way, pet names and praises are 2 things that will be more common in times like these, the favoritism will be way more evident and Black hat is shamelessly crediting only you at this point, completely forgetting the existence of the others.

۶ৎ Eventually, you will be able figure out he has something for you, now it's up to you to either try to confront him about it or just leave it like that.

۶ৎ If you decide to just leave it be, it will get more and more signs, to the point where it can get overwhelming and you just have to talk to him about it and hope for the best.

۶ৎ Now if you do muster the courage to go and talk to him about it, he would hesitate to admit it out loud, not because he's scared nor embarrassed, like i said, it's quite not the pleasant feeling for him and he has a hard time dealing with it.

۶ৎ However, if you keep asking him Black hat would at some point admit it.

۶ৎ But if you accept his love is totally up to you.

“You are quite the lucky individual my dear”

[deanscherrypie420]

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

A/N: Hi guys! I promised another Sam fic so HERE WE ARE! This idea was originally for Dean, but I figured it would work for Sammy too. I tweaked it a little bit once I saw this GIF because OMG idk its just so cute. ENJOY <3

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader Y/N, Dean Winchester, Crowley

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Demon!Reader, arguing, mild violence, guns, alcohol, biting, fluff, supernatural stuff, nerds, physical affection.

Summary: After the Winchester brothers barge into Crowley's lair, they meet you. You're already in a bad mood and they don't help. You can't help but notice the taller one, how attractive he is. After going to the bunker with them, you find yourself in an unexpected situation.

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"I have never once gotten myself in danger! Why won't you let me do this?" Y/N screamed at the man in front of her. Crowley was like a father to her. He took her in from the depths of hell when she was little, turning her into the little princess of hell.

"Hunters get hurt. They die, all the time. Is that really something you want for yourself?" He questioned, crossing his hands in his lap. He was staring down at her from his throne and this irked her. She didn't like being talked down to, especially not by Crowley. She was not going to be treated like one of his servants.

"You are ridiculous. I am more than capable of killing a few monsters. I'm a mini you, for hell's sake!" He just shook his head and sighed. "I said no, Y/N. Do not make me repeat myself."

Y/N felt her jaw tick, her eyes quickly flicking to black, a low red glow illuminating from the corners. She wasn't a normal demon. After being with Crowley, she evolved into a different being.

Her arm stuck out and she flung him across the room, earning a loud groan from not only him but two new men. She snapped her head around and walked backwards towards the throne, claiming her rightful seat upon it.

"Did we interrupt something?" The shorter one chuckled as he nudged Crowley with his foot. The older man grunted and pushed himself off the ground. "Get out, Winchesters. We are having a family discussion."

The taller one glanced over at you, and his brother hooted. "Wow, a new wife? This one's a little young, don't ya think?" Her eyes widened and she instinctively slammed him against the wall. "He is like my father, you indolent pig!"

"Right, my bad." He choked out and the giant stepped forward. "Let him go." He said as he pulled out a blade. She just laughed, looking over at Crowley. He gave her a nod and she huffed, releasing the man from her hold.

"Well, aren't you a bundle of sunshine." He scoffed as he brushed himself off. She glared at him and he put his hands up in defense, making the taller one laugh quietly.

"Look, Crowley, we need your help. Difficult demon hunt." He explained as his brother still tried to compose himself. Crowley shook his head, an amused look on his face. "Very funny, Sam. Run along, you two aren't getting help here."

"Actually, Sam, you might. What do you need help with?" Y/N announced quickly, rising from the seat and stepping forward. "Uh... Just with some research, I really don't think you-" Sam started but Crowley cut him off. "You aren't helping, Y/N. Go to the back room, now."

"What's your name?" She asked the shorter man, ignoring the king completely. "Dean. This is my brother." He grinned, growing a liking to the young woman. Sam cleared his throat and looked down at her, "I would listen to your, uh, dad."

The older man nodded and gestured towards the doorway behind her. She shook her head and smiled up at him, an innocent look in her beautiful Y/E/C eyes. "I'm a big girl, Sam. He can't control me." She moved closer to him, standing nearly a foot away.

"He's the king of hell, the hell you mean he doesn't control you?" Dean questioned, disbelief mounting his features. She glanced over at him, her eyes morphing into dark pits enclosed by a ruby glow. "I'm the princess of hell. I have more power than you think, Winchester."

Sam stepped back, his brows furrowing as he lips flattened into a line. "Don't worry, I don't bite. I want to help." She blinked her eyes back to normal and grinned at the brothers.

"Y/N! What did I tell you!" Crowley shouted, using his powers to throw her to the floor. She hissed and got up, her eyes glowing brighter than they had before. "I swear to God, I will carve out your fucking eyes." She spat as she tossed him against a wall, her fingers closing tighter, slowly crushing his internal organs.

Sam rushed to her side and tried pulling her back, but she just kept going, slowly walking towards the king. When she reached him, her hand wrapped around his throat, a low growl escaping her. "I'm becoming a hunter, whether you like it or not."

Sam gripped her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "He's not stopping you, let's go. You're alright." He soothed, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Her brain stuttered, her force relaxing as her eyes shifted. "Fine." She stated simply before letting go of Crowley completely and storming out of the building.

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They had stopped at a diner before heading home to the bunker, all of them chatting and story-telling. The waitress came by to take their orders and she looked Y/N up and down, a look of distaste forming across her face.

"Well, you have an interesting fashion choice." The older woman spoke. Y/N bit her tongue, trying to remind herself that this was a conservative town and her outfit was very provocative. "Thanks, Hun. Anyway, I'd like-" The woman cut her off and put a hand on her hip.

"I'm just saying, young lady. That is a very immodest outfit. If I didn't know better, I'd think you work on the streets." Her southern drawl only made Y/N more irritated. Dean tried holding back a laugh, his beer nearly shooting out of his mouth.

"And I think you belong in a nursing home. Don't worry, hell has great hosts. I'd like some fries, please." She punctuated her statement with a flash of her eyes, the action earning a quiet gasp from Sam and roar of laughter from his brother.

"C-coming right up." The waitress murmured before skittishly running off, retreating to the back of the diner. "Damn, little lady. Didn't know you were that feisty!" Dean teased and she rolled her eyes. "Didn't know you were that reckless." Sam muttered and she sighed.

"Sammy, we're fine. What is she gonna do, call a priest on me?" Dean snickered some more. "You should really be more careful - for your safety." Sam warned, his brows knitted together.

"Awh, you care about me!" She cooed, a sarcastic undertone lacing her words. "We only just met, Sammy. We aren't that committed yet."

He shook his head and stared her down, his eyes so full and bright. "Those are the cutest puppy dog eyes ever." She added before kissing his cheek and excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Sammy's got a girlfriend..." Dean whispered in a sing-song voice, causing Sam to kick him under the table.

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Sam was researching in the library, books sprawled out on the desk in front of him. He was fiddling with a pen in his hands, a concentrated look on his face as he jotted down a few things on a notepad.

"Whatcha writing, Sammy?" Y/N asked. She was sitting on a bar above him, the ceiling only a few feet away from her head. Her legs dangled mindlessly in the air as she studied him.

He raised a brow and looked up at her. "What are you doing up there, Princess?" He questioned back, slouching back a bit in his chair. "Watching you." She responded with a huge smile, her eyes glistening in the bunker light.

"Why don't you come down from there, yeah?" He offered, patting his thigh gently as an invitation. She giggled and bit her lip, leaning forward. Her hands slid beneath the cool metal and grasped the edge behind her.

She swung downwards, hanging there for a minute before dropping to the ground. "If you insist." She danced her way over, her hands meeting his shoulders as she crawled into his lap.

He chuckled and his hand began rubbing her back. She nestled her head underneath his chin and skimmed over the pages he was reviewing. Her legs were hunched up, knees level with his upper chest and feet planted on his other thigh.

His free hand gently wrapped around her ankle, his digits resting on the hem of her sock as his thumb traced random patterns on her skin.

She reached over and grabbed his beer bottle, taking a long drag and twirling it between her fingers. "That's mine." He mumbled into her hair, his hand moving from her leg, covering hers as he tried to reclaim the bottle.

"No. I want it." She retorted, trying to move the bottle away. He plugged the top of the bottle with his thumb so it didn't spill, tugging it away from her. "Well, you don't always get what you want."

She huffed and crossed her arms, her elbow digging into his stomach. "I got you." She bickered and he smiled. He set the bottle down on the table and pulled her closer, one arm hooked around her belly.

"I guess you're right, Princess."

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! This one was super fun to write <3 If you liked it, please follow, reblog and comment! All feedback is LOVED.

Send in requests if you have any! :)

[nimpnawakproduction]

The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)

IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).

Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.

I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !

The July coat

The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.

Scars map

Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)

After July underclothes

Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.

Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.

This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).

After July coat

The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.

Eriks

I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;

I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.

After his years as Eriks

And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.

The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.

We are now at Prosthesis 4 !

Hospitalization on the Home ship

The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.

The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?

The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????

Back on the road in pursuit of Knives

He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.

I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.

Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?

Prisoner on the Ark

THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.

Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????

After his imprisonment on the Ark

The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).

I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.

Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !

Final battle and end of the story

It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.

I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!

[imaginetheonewith]

The one where Chandler & Y/N end up having a fake baby

Pairing: Chandler Bing x f!reader

Warnings: reader is a little bit of a bi*ch in the beginning, but other than that no <3

Author's note: loosely based on “The One With The East German Laundry Detergent” (only in the beginning); also I know I have been a little bit inactive here, but requests are open.

"So, Saturday night, the big night, date night, Saturday night, Sat-ur-day night!"

Chandler's excited voice sounded behind you, before he jumped next to the sofa, almost tripping while doing his little dance. You, Phoebe, Ross, Joey and Monica looked at him from your place around the sofa, before exchanging a knowing look between yourselves. As always, the weekend got Chandler way too excited to not do anything and spend his entire day hanging out at the coffee house, before he gets home so he can watch "Baywatch".

"No plans, huh?", Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not a one", Bing sighed, taking a seat at the empty chair next to the bar. A sudden thought entered your mind and you bit your lip, trying to suppress your smirk.

"Not even, say, breaking up with Janice?", you asked innocently, before bringing the cup of already cold cappuccino to your lips. He gave you annoyed look and you bashed your lashes at him, trying to ignore Ross' snickering next you.

"Oh right... right...", the brunette man murmured under his breath, his finger moving up and down, as if he was mentally calculating the priority of the said task in his imaginary "to-do list". Suddenly his eyes widened, before he jumped on his chair and extended his arms towards you.

"Shut up" he almost yelled through a wide smile, before slumping back to his original position with a scowl on his face.

It was not a secret that while they have been dating for months, Chandler and Janice's relationship was questionable... to everyone. What was supposed to be a one night stand ended in a rapidly progressing relationship, in which Chandler has been trying to break things off almost every week, so far unsuccessfully (apart from that one weekend a few months ago). While all of his friends were showing sympathy at the beginning, you couldn't help but feel bad for Janice too. Sure, she was loud and annoying, and overly excited about everything, but she was also clearly in love with your best friend.

"Chandler, nobody likes breaking up with someone", Monica tried to reason, putting her coffee down on the table, "You just gotta do it."

The man rolled his eyes, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to find the best words to describe his reasons for trying to avoid meeting with Janice today.

"No, I know, but it's just so hard, you know? I mean, you're sitting there with her, she has no idea what's happening, and then you finally get up the courage to do it, and there's the horrible awkward moment when you've handed her the note."

You almost spit your coffee at his last words, and you had to get a few back rubs from Joey in order to be able to get a gulp of fresh air. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed Chandler with suspicion.

"I can't believe you!", you exclaimed, lifting your hands in front of your face, "Are you not feeling at least a little bit bad for her? You've been stringing her along for months. She deserves to know the truth."

"Stringing her along?", he bit back, looking at you in disbelief, "She has been holding me hostage for months. There is a slight difference there, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to reply but the words stopped in your mouth once you felt Ross's warm hand on yours. He shook his head in a "no" motion, silently telling you that no matter what you say, you won't be able to reason with your friend.

From all of the people in the group, you knew Ross and Chandler the longest. Ross was one of your best friends during college and Chandler was... well, Chandler. He was a good and funny guy, yet your friendship never really evolved in anything past the stage of acquaintances. While you spend time together with everyone else, you never hang out alone and you if by any chance you meet on the street or in the coffee house, you have nothing more than a short casual chat about the weather or today's news.

It was not that you did not like Chandler. He was kind, good-looking, smart and with an amazing sense of humor. You even had a crush on him for a whole year after you met him, despite his weirdly styled hair. However, his commitment issues and inability to stay serious in any type of situation quickly made you realize that there is zero chance for something to happen between you and you are better off as just friends. Chandler has also never really showed any interest in you, other than jokingly flirting with you every now and then, but he did that with everyone so you never read into it too much.

Sensing the awkward silence, Joey was the first to break it by giving his typical advice.

"Why do you have to break up with her?", he raised his shoulders and looked between all of you, as if searching for your support, "Be a man, just stop calling."

You, Phoebe and Monica let out a groan in unison, rolling your eyes at him. While comments like this did stop bothering you a long time ago, you were feeling obliged to show your dissatisfaction at some of his relationship opinions.

Chandler looked at him for a few seconds, his mind deep in thought, but then shook his head, before looking at the rest of the group for help.

"Oh, I know, I know!", Phoebe jumped up and down of the sofa, while clapping her hands, "Y/N can join you."

Your eyes widened and you turned towards her, ready to protest, but were interrupted by Chandler, who looked more annoyed than shocked.

"Oh, thanks, but I think she'd feel like we're gangin' up on her."

"Plus", you added, "I wouldn't want to risk ending up in a poly relationship. I mean Janice is fine, but Chandler..."

"Hey!", he pointed at you, "I am a great lover."

"And almost 6 years of friendship, we are still waiting for a reliable source to testify to that statement", you looked towards the ceiling, while tapping your index finger on your chin, "Oh wait... there is none."

The moment you said these words, you felt the feeling of regret washing over you. The comment sounded way funnier in your head, but it came out way harsher than you intended it to be. And judging by the look on Chandler's face, he also didn't find any humor in it.

"Chandler, I..."

"No, no, you're right."

With these words, he stood up and headed towards the door, before slamming it behind him. You felt of the group's eyes on you and for the first time in your life, you wished there will be a sudden earthquake which will open the deepest crack in the floor, where you can spend your remaining days drowning in guilt and misery.

"Wow", Ross muttered, sneakily looking towards Monica, who silently mouthed "I know" at him.

"I don't know why I said that...", you buried your head in your hands and exhaled deeply, "Can this day get any worse than that? I am so sorry guys." The friends looked at each other and soon they all sat around you on the sofa, embracing your slumped body in their arms. You stayed like that for a few minutes, before you murmured you had to get home. It seems your Saturday was already doomed.

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

No matter how hard you tried to take your mind off Chandler, he was the only thing you could think about. The harshness of your words kept ringing inside your head, filling you with guilt.

Why did you even said that? It seems the words escaped your lips, before you even had the chance to think them over. And the worst part was you had no idea how you can make things right. Would he ever speak to you again? Would he even give you the chance to listen to you?

Frustrated with all the questions in your head, you turned off the TV and quickly grabbed your bag and coat. You needed to get out of your apartment and get somewhere where you could have some time to think. Maybe even speak to someone... and what better place to do this than "Central Perk"?

10 minutes later and a hot cup of pumpkin latte, you quickly regretted your decision once Chandler barged through the door. In a minute of panic you quickly ducked at the front of the sofa, hoping that he has not seen you.

"Y/N?"

You cursed under your breath, before lifting your head. Chandler was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking at you with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Chandler!", you sat on your knees, while brushing your hair on the side, "I did not see you there."

"Strange", he smiled sarcastically, cocking his head to the side, "I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that your head was buried into the carpet."

You let out an awkward chuckle, lifting yourself onto the couch. You licked your lips, trying to gather at least one reasonable excuse for the position he found you in.

"Ha-ha, you see....", you paused, letting out another chuckle, "I was actually... checking for bugs."

"Bugs?", Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"Yes!", you exclaimed, almost too excitedly, "You see I thought something bit me earlier, so I decided to investigate what it was."

The man looked at you for a minute, carefully studying your face in silence. You met his gaze, but soon felt a drop of sweat slowly sliding down your forehead. The intensity of his stare made you shift uncomfortably in your place and you let another awkward chuckle, gathering the courage to speak about what happened earlier.

"Look, Chandler..."

He lifted his palm towards you, stopping your sentence:

"Look, I am not mad. You are right, I do not have great record with women and I know that it is because of me that most of my relationships don't work."

You closed your eyes, letting out a small sign. Without much hesitation, you reached towards one of his hands, wrapping your fingers around it.

"You are an amazing, amazing man, Chandler Bing", you opened your eyelids again, only to find him already staring at you. The sudden eye contact caused a warm feeling to wash over your whole body and you bit your lips in order to stop any inappropriate thought slipping out.

"You are smart, funny, kind and an amazing friend. And while you may not have found your soulmate yet, I know she is one very, very lucky lady. Because I know I would be, if I end up with someone like you."

His fingers squeezed your hand and his body shifted towards you, without breaking eye contact. You gulped, feeling the blood rushing towards your cheeks. You have not seen Chandler like this for years, yet the feeling of his warm skin on yours and his musky perfume made your old feelings rush like a waterfall on you.

"Oh. My. God."

The sudden sound of Janice's voice made you jump apart, resulting with Chandler being on the floor.

"Chandler", Janice exclaimed, looking between both of you, "What is the meaning of this?"

He opened his mouth, but could get nothing more than a groan, so he quickly closed it again. Lifting himself, he opened his arms to his girlfriend, letting out a fake laugh.

"Janice, I am so glad you are here!", he cried, before turning towards the bar, "Can I get an espresso and two lattes over here, please?"

He pushed the dark haired woman towards the sofa, pushing her to sit next to you. You smiled awkwardly at her, putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Nice to see you, Janice! I was just going. Hope you two have a nice.... date?"

You made an attempt to get up, but felt a hand harshly pulling you back down. Looking down, Janice's red nails were firmly wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

"Nuh-uh, missy. I want to know what is going on between you and Chandler."

"Me and Chandler?", you chocked, putting a hand on your chest, "There is nothing going on between us. I don't understand... We are just friends."

She finally let go of your hand, only to cross her arms in front of her chest and squint her eyes at you.

"Really?", her voice suddenly got higher and louder, making you wince, "So you just tell al your friends you would feel lucky if you ended up with them."

"Where is the coffee? Where is the coffee?", Chandler shook on his chair next to you.

You on the other hand could not form even one sentence. Like a mouse trapped in a trap, you could do nothing more than to stare back at her with wide eyes and flushed face. Were you that into Chandler, that you could not see his girlfriend right behind you?

Before you could form any words into your defense, Chandler spoke:

"We are dating. Y/N and I are dating."

Both you and Janice both turned your heads towards him at the same time.

"What?", you said in unison.

"That's right", he nodded, quickly wiping the sweat of his forehead with his shirt sleeve, "We have been dating for six months now."

Janice stared at him in shock for few minutes, before bursting into laughter.

"My little Bing-a-ling!", she grabbed a handful of his cheek, pulling him towards her, "I get it now! This is one of your silly little jokes! You almost got me there!"

He continued laughing, while Chandler's face twisted in pain. His eyes met yours and he mouthed "Help me", while trying to pull away from the woman's grip. You spend a second, considering if that is a good time to leave, but against your better judgement you decide to play along.

"Janice", you grabbed her hand away from Chandler's cheek, turning her towards you, "It is true. Me and Chandler are together."

"But how?", her eyes started to fill with tears, before she turned towards him, "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? NO!"

You quickly glared at Chandler, making him only shake his shoulders in response.

"Then how is this possible?", Janice kept looking between both of you, trying to make sense of the situation.

"She is keeping me hostage", your friend suddenly said, making you roll your eyes. You were trying to go along with his little story but he was making it really, really difficult. You started to wonder if you didn't do a mistake by staying here.

"Hostage?", Janice yelled, getting the attention of a few customers around you. You smiled awkwardly at them, before squeezing her hand once again and giving a warning look to Chandler to keep his mouth shut.

"No, I am not keeping anyone hostage", you assured her, "And we have not told you the full truth."

You took a moment of silence and looked at Chandler for help, but he had his nose buried in his third cup of espresso. Letting out a small sign, you've pulled Janice's hand till it rested on your stomach:

"The truth is... I am pregnant... with Chandler's child."

Your words made him choke on his drink and some of the liquid started dripping out of his nose. Janice looked at you with an open mouth, barely blinking.

"Pregnant?... What... How?"

"Well... You and Chandler were broken up a few months ago and I felt so lonely that I invited him for a movie... Then one thing led to another, and... Boom! I am pregnant."

Finally getting himself together, Chandler took a seat next to Janice and rubbed comforting circles on her shoulder.

"Janice, I am really, really sorry!"

Both of her looked at her shocked form, waiting for her to burst into tears, but surprisingly that never happened. You and your friend exchanged worrying looks, before you cautiously asked:

"Janice, are you okay?"

Shaking her head she gave a thin lipped smile, before turning to Chandler:

"Listen, Bing... I really like you and you are very nice guy, but I don't think it could work out between us. I mean you are going to have a baby with Y/N and I am not ready to be a step-mom. I really hope you understand and I do wish you the best."

She turned towards you:

"To both of you."

With these words she stood up and grabbed her coat, leaving you and Chandler frozen on the sofa. Only once she was out of the door, you relaxed back and let out the breath, which you didn't even know you were holding.

"A baby?", Chandler asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"A hostage?", you asked back, raising yours. Seeing your logic, he nodded his head, before letting out a quiet chuckle: "Oh, freedom does taste niiiceeee."

You let out a laugh, gently packing him on the back. But before you could congratulate him on his new status as a single man, Ross, Monica, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel ran through the door, almost jumping on top of both of you:

"You two are going to have a baby?"

Oh crap.

[beauty-and-passion]

also yes i think you should talk about dipcifica i love the old man yaoi as much as the next guy but i also will always crave this kind of "coming of age" love story

Glad to comply! Here are my points about why Dipcifica is canon and endgame and everything:

1) Dipper and Pacifica are a walking "enemies to friends to lovers" trope. It literally started with Dipper saying to her face he doesn't like her, what's more clichè than that? When he said it, all I could hear was "We will definitely become a thing in the future".

And guess what? After a while, Dipper changed his mind: now he doesn't think Pacifica is the worst anymore. The next step is admitting she's great, asking her out and becoming a couple.

2) "Northwest Mansion Mystery" is basically a huge Dipcifica manifesto, thanks to the introduction of more tropes like:

the characters are put into nice suits

Pacifica fixes Dipper's clothes like a good wife

these two share an adventure together - which is universally something that would strengthen the bond between two people

their daring escape ends with a hug, given out of a sincere emotional reaction

the hug is followed by some cute awkwardness (especially from Pacifica's side)

Dipper and Pacifica share a heartfelt moment in which she reveals her insecurities, something we can be 99% sure she doesn't usually do. Also because... with whom can she share them? Her parents? Her supposed friends?

Dipper changes his mind about Pacifica after understanding her a bit more (which is always the interlude for the development of romantic feelings)

Pacifica finds the strength to do the right thing, only after Dipper sacrifices himself

the episode ends with them having fun together, laughing and enjoying their time. Also, it's implied they probably spent some time after the party to clean up the mess they made - so who knows? Maybe they shared some more time together and talked a lot more.

I mean... I've seen love stories start with less than that.

3) Dipper and Pacifica have another adventure together in Lost Legends. The formula is similar to Northwest Mansion Mystery: Pacifica has an issue (caused by her shitty parents), Dipper doesn't understand what her problem is, they share a heartfelt moment in which she reveals her weakness, Dipper tells all the right things, they hug, Pacifica does the right thing.

This is another way to reconfirm what the episode in the series already told us: these two have chemistry. They are meant to be. They are a walking enemies to friends to lovers trope - with a side dish of "slow burn" too. And we all love slow-burn stories <3

But this adventure shows us something else: how things have changed since Northwest Mansion Mystery and especially how Dipper's attitude has evolved towards Pacifica. In the episode, he is still very wary of her and makes it clear multiple times that he dislikes her.

Now he says this:

This is basically the Dipcifica equivalent of "I once considered him the center of my life, the sun in my galaxy", only with less toxic old men yaoi and more wholesomeness

it shows how Dipper's attitude is more mature

it implies he can and will develop romantic feelings for her. I mean, look at it: "I've noticed another side of you", "I see the real one and you're more than a pretty face"... gosh, if Pacifica hadn't fallen in love before, she definitely did after that.

it also shows Dipper's growth regarding women: my boy went from making huge, complex plans to talk to them, to lying to get random girls, to saying the truth in such a smooth way. He's great with girls when he doesn't try, he makes me so proud <3

4) Now I know what you think: great points, Bea, but does this couple have Mabel's approval stamp? Billford got it with Mabel calling Bill a clingy ex and telling him to get a crush on someone else's Grunkle. Does Dipcifica have Mabel's approval?

The answer is yes:

Do I have to say anything else? I think Mabel already said anything. Dipper and Pacifica are. A. Thing.

And yes, I know what you might say: they are kids! Sure they are, but that doesn't mean there can't be anything in the future. There is time for them to grow and for these feelings to develop. What we saw in the series and in Lost Legends are the crumbs, the foundation of something bigger that can evolve in the future.

And this is a great foundation because it's plausible and stable. Dipper and Pacifica's interactions never sound forced or out of character: on the contrary, they are built in a way that conciliates both personalities and justifies their changes and evolution.

If we can easily imagine a future for them, it's because their change is organic, it works in the long run - Pacifica can easily become better and better, while she works out her issue and shows the beautiful person she is. And Dipper can easily become more and more aware of what a great girl she is and start to develop deeper feelings for her. It's not impossible to imagine. It works.

And yes, this proves again how well Hirsch developed Gravity Falls and its characters, if we can easily imagine a future for them just out of a few, well-built interactions.

[the-massive-simp]

I've been thinking about fem/gn reader losing their virginity to kaeya, venti and kaveh... But maybe they accidentally get hurt and have to stop? I wanna know how they'd act when something like that happens (:

a/n: I love this kind of prompt <3 here you go anon! I'm slowly trying to fight writer's block so its only headcanons and not drabbles but I tried my best. sadly there's no venti because i dont really feel comfortable writing suggestive or nsfw things with him (i know i got your request before changing my rules so you did nothing wrong. sorry for the inconvenience). and remember everyone: a yes can turn into a no at any moment, and that's completely fine. consent is key. also I think that my love for kaveh shows in this one because his part is twice kaeya's one

warnings: it's not graphic smut but sex is mentioned so don't read if you're uncomfortable with that. no mentions of protections (make sure use them irl)

♡Kaeya♡

I imagine Kaeya being a super sex positive person, like for him sex is not a big deal as long as there's respect for the other person

so he was probably ready to have sex with you since you started dating 💀

but of course he didn't push you, he waited for you to be ready to have your first time with him

one time you have dinner at his place and an heated make up sessions evolves in discarding eachother clothes

he asks for your consent like 100 times while you two move to the bedroom

he knows how important foreplay is, so he makes sure to prepare you for the main act

then he slowly pushes himself in, an heavy breath leaving his lips as he hides his face in your neck, his arms supporting him so he doesn’t put all of his weight on you

you immediately feel uncomfortable

the stretch feels too much and its almost painful

at first you think it's normal but it doesn't go away even after he begins to gently trust in you

if anything, it gets worse, but he fails to notice tour discomfort

tears start to spill from your eyes as you put your hands on kaeya chest and tell him to stop

he immediately freezes, concern and guilt flooding his face

"Can I pull out?"

you nod and he backs away from your body, opting to sit back to give you some space

"Did it hurt? Did I do something wrong? Should I go get you anything?"

he listens to you as you try to explain him how you felt

he goes getting a warm cloth to gently clean you up before embracing you in his arms

he feels really bad for not having noticed your discomfort sooner

you tell him that's its fine, you thought you were ready but maybe you were too nervous

you two keep talking about it for a while until you fall asleep

after that for a while he's a bit reluctant to try again because he doesn't want to hurt you

but when you tell him that you really want to take this step with him, he finally agrees

expect 3 hours of foreplay

♡Kaveh♡

now now

sweet kaveh loves to spoil you, taking you out to have dinner and go shopping

however his wallet does not enjoy it as much as he does

so you often have dates where you just go for a walk together or have a picnic

it's during one of those dates that he casually mentions the subject of sex

now, he doesn’t want to force you but he loves you so much and the idea of you two doing that together looks amazing to him

the conversation its not meant to push you, but rather to offer you an occasion to talk about it together and see if you feel the same about him

when you tell him you're ready (be it that same date or after years) he gets so excited

he can't believe you're going to share the magic moment of your first time with him of all people

he probably asks you if you two can go at your place since he doesn't want alhaitham around

once you two get down to business, he's the sweetest guy ever

he kisses every single inch of your body, basically worshipping you

makes sure to keep eye contact with you most of the time so he can notice if anything is wrong

after the foreplay, he lets you get on top of him, straddling his lap while his back is propped up by some pillows

he wants you to be the one in charge so you can choose the pace of events

the moment you lower yourself on him, he knows something is wrong

yes, he does feel a lot of pleasure from finally being inside of you, but he doesn't miss the face you make

when after a few seconds he sees tears pooling in your eyes he has the confirmation of his suspects

he immediately grabs your hips and pulls you up, making you sit on his thighs before comfortly rubbing your arms and shoulders

"What's wrong baby?"

he's so gentle with you, holding you close while you sniffle in his neck, hands resting on his chest

he strokes your hair and reassures you that you don't have to do anything if you're not ready, that he'd wait a thousand years for you, that he loves you as much as before, that sex is not the important thing in your relationship

he waits for you to calm down before asking you what exactly you think went wrong

if you tell him you want to try again he's completely fine with it, but he becomes even more attentive and gentle, making sure that this time you'll be able to enjoy it

[imasinnerimsorry]

The Break-In

Harry was on a business trip with a couple of co-workers, leaving his girlfriend all alone at her house. She begins to notice strange things going on around her until suddenly, everything becomes more intense.

SMUT; Kinks included: Gangbang (4 people), deep penetration, Daddy/Sir/Mister kinks, Squirting, Deepthroating, Dildos, Gaping, Anal, Oral, Creampies

The house was quiet. Too quiet. But there was Rani, filling the noise of the bathroom with some 2000s R&B music and humming along to Mary J. Blige as she finished her nighttime routine. She had a whole process: tie her hair into a bun and put a headband around her hairline so that her hair wouldn’t get in the way, remove her makeup if she had any on, wash her face, apply her moisturizer and essential oils, put on a face mask if she felt like it, put her bonnet on, and brush her teeth. She did this every night- same old thing on a different day.

But, tonight was different. Something about the air was off. It was almost as if someone was watching her…

She shrugged off that feeling, though, not wanting to get super paranoid before she went to bed. Anytime she had a worrying thought or even watched a scary movie before bed, she would always have nightmares. She didn’t have time for that because she had a date with her boyfriend tomorrow.

Her boyfriend, Harry, was such a great man. He was attentive to her every need. If Rani called him at 3 AM to cuddle, she’d hear a knock on her door at 3:15 with him being there behind it with a smile and loving eyes. He was attentive to her every need, want, and desire, whether it be at social events, in the comfort of their own home, or in the bedroom. Harry was just amazing. Her best boyfriend of all time.

Speaking of Rani’s every desire, she had a bucket list of every thing she wanted to do before she died. Everything thrilling like jumping out of a plane to everything kinky like having anal sex.  No one knew about this list or the contents of it. No one except Harry. He made a mental note of every single detail, from traveling to the Philippines to trying out a threesome. And he wanted to make sure she could check off aspects of that list by any means necessary.

But Harry was on a business trip with some of his favorite co-workers this weekend, so he unfortunately would not be at her beck-and-call like she would’ve wanted him to. And she really did want him to. She hated being alone on cold, dark nights like these. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the night sky as she looked up out her window, and she usually depended on its light to shine through and bless her with a good night’s rest. 

As she laid into her bed, she could hear creaking coming from the house. It was a breezy night, so she didn’t suspect anything of it. She didn’t live in the most modern home anyway, so creaks and cracks were expected. She lifted the covers over her body and tried to relax, her comforter covering her entire body from the neck down as the nightgown she was wearing wasn’t enough to keep her warm. 

Then, another creaking sound, only this time followed by a deep thud. Rani jolted as the thud’s vibration pounded through her chest. It sounded like something fell… on top of her house? But what? And how? 

Then another pound followed by another and another. It was a repeated action in a rhythm, but it was traveling from one side of the roof to the next. Almost as if it was the sound of… footsteps?

I must be trippin’, she thought. No way is someone walking on top of my house. On my roof… The disbelief turned into confusion as the footsteps increased in their sound as they got closer to her. Is that a human? A raccoon? I haven’t seen raccoons here before. But, how could a human even get up here? The confusion evolved to fear as another thud was heard. What am I gonna do if it’s a human? Who could that even be? I’m alone, no weapons, no help, no protection! What the fuck could I use as a weapon? 

The footprints stopped. And one more thud shook the house. Then footprints began again. Rani put all of the pieces together. Three thuds. Three sets of footprints. All coming her direction. On top of her house. There were three people trying to break in through the roof.

Her thoughts were stopped as the window flew open. She forgot to lock it shut. Again. Harry would always remind her to. Whoops.

All she could see were three tall human figures dressed in all black hop straight into the house before she covered her whole face with her comforter and screamed. The protection (or lack thereof) of the comforter was quickly gone as it was tugged from off of her bed and thrown to the side of the room. “No! Please!” she screamed out.

Rani quickly noticed three colored masks of the three figures in the room: pink, blue, and green. Each of the figures wore black clothing with padding, however, which sealed any sort of identification of their bodies that she could take note of. But Rani made sure that she didn’t stay still for too long, she knew she had to get out of there in some way. So she slowly inched herself off the bed when she noticed the three figures huddled up in the room speaking amongst each other about their game plan, as if they were some American football players. Their voices were deep, so she could probably infer they were all men. 

The blue masked figure turned his head to face Rani as he noticed her movement. “Stay on the bed, bitch!” He grabbed a hammer that was inside of a duffel bag that he snuck in with and lifted it over his shoulder as he walked over to Rani, who was quivering with fear as she slid herself back into the position she was in before on top of her bed. Her widened eyes couldn’t stop staring at him and the weapon that he had, but the figure only chuckled as he noticed her fear. “Scared little kitten, aren’t ya?” He teased her. Rani could only nod her head and gulp. He chuckled again and walked back to the other two men, continuing their conversation.

All of their voices had a robotic sound to them, and from the looks of it, the men were wearing voice changers under their masks to hide their identities. Smart move, but Rani knew this would give her a great deal of trouble when she would report them to the cops. If she ever could report them, that is. Who knew what these men would do with her after they were done with their business?

The one with the pink balaclava walked over to the edge of Rani’s bed and just stared at her. It felt as if his eyes bore a hole into her head as he did so. Then he looked at the other two masked men behind him. “I want you two to take everything you think is valuable. Leave the bag here. I’ll handle the girl first.” He turned to face Rani again, whose eyes were still widened and legs still trembling in fright. 

The other two men went down the hallway as they followed PInk’s instructions and Pink walked up to the side of the bed. The pace of his walk was slow, heavy and intimidating, yet almost calm? It was as if he wasn’t nervous at all about what was happening or what was about to happen. He was probably the seasoned mastermind of all of this, the one who had been through this before and had always succeeded, so he probably didn’t have a care in the world about the consequences. He came to get the job done, and that was it.

He stroked his latex-gloved hand down Rani’s temple and took her bonnet off. “Gorgeoussss,” he drew out from his lips like an exhale. Rani didn’t know how to react but whimper and turn her head away. But in the corner of her eye, she noticed the man reach his hand into his pocket and retrieve a bundle of rope. He didn’t say anything as he quickly jumped on top of her body and held her down. Rani tried to squirm and fight her way out of his grasp, but to no avail. “Shhh,” he coaxed her, as if that would help to calm her down. All it did was cause her heart to beat fast against his chest as he reached himself to her left arm with some rope and managed to tie her against one of the bedposts. He did the same with her other arm, and then he shuffled himself to her legs to tie them to their respective posts. The man still sat on top of her, legs spread around her waist and looked down at Rani like she was a finished sculpture of his that he was admiring. Like she was his best work. He ran his hands down her sides, her body still covered by her nightgown but skin feeling every bit of the latex on his gloves through her fabric. 

One of the other men, Green Mask, ran back with a trash bag which Rani could assume was filled with some of her belongings. She was annoyed at her not being able to fight back, but it’s not like she had any way of doing so. She stopped straining against her confinements, and the man with the pink mask rose from his position and walked towards the green mask. Rani watched as he shuffled through her bag, looking through all of the items. When he was satisfied, he nodded his head, and walked over to the duffel bag that was brought in with them. He said, his head pretty much shoved into the bag as he searched for everything he wanted, “Take the gown off.” 

Green Mask nodded in compliance and made his way to Rani. Just as Pink did before, Green pulled something out of his pocket, only this time it was a pocketknife. Rani connected the dots.

“Uh, no, no, no, no! You are not cutting this gown!!” She screamed.

“Would you prefer it if I ripped it off?” Despite the distorted sound that the voice changer gave him, his teasing tone pierced straight through.

Rani shook her head no and watched as the man brought the knife down to her body. He used the knife to tear through her gown, but he was meticulous about it, thankfully for Rani. Did he not want to potentially hurt her? Rani took note of his precision and carefulness as he wielded the knife- maybe it would be a helpful detail to remember for the police when this whole ordeal was over if she made it out alive.

Green Mask removed the fabric from her body, his eyes immediately widening in admiration of her naked figure. Rani was too embarrassed, so she tilted her head to move from the man’s gaze. His eyes were like scanners as they observed her entire body from head to toe. His mouth hung open a bit as if he were about to drool at the sight before him. “Look at these fuckin’ tits.” He used his hands to squeeze at them and give a slight tug to her nipples. “Can’t wait to have a taste of those,” he stated, causing Rani to whimper.

Blue Mask finally rushed back into the bedroom. “I have some good shit in he-” He paused, noticing Rani now naked and tied onto the bed, Green Mask’s gloved hands playing with her breasts. “Aw man, you guys started without me?”

Green Mask seemed to roll his eyes. His voice, robotic yet clearly annoyed, commented, “Well, we weren’t gonna wait for you. You took too long, and we don’t have all night.” One of his gloved hands rubbed against Rani’s bare inner thigh as he spoke. Rani wished she could close her legs due to this invasion of privacy, but alas.

Blue Mask rolled his eyes right back. “Whatever, Jake,” he said out of annoyance, but quickly coughed as he noticed the slip of Green’s name. “Alright, so what are we doing with the girl?”

The man with the pink balaclava, still shuffling through the duffel bag and dropping items onto the ground that Rani couldn’t see because of her position, responded nonchalantly, “We’re gonna play with her. Isn’t that right, Rani?”

Rani’s body turned cold at the sound of her name. “H-how did you know my name?”

Pink Mask laughed. “How wouldn’t I know your name? Your room is just plastered with it.” He wasn’t wrong. There were photos and journals with Rani’s name all over them. She didn’t think of that. Well, she didn’t even think of her house getting broken into and robbed one day, so it was a first time for everything.

“Well, Rani, you have a beautiful fuckin’ body.” Green Mask ran one of his hands up her thigh and near her cunt. “Pretty cunt, too.”

“Yeah, and it looks like she wants to play with us as well,” Blue Mask said, and by the direction his eyes were roaming in, Rani could tell he was staring directly at her pussy. She whimpered at the men’s wandering eyes, both of them looking at her as though they were predators hungry for their prey.

Green Mask’s hand snuck in between her labia, rubbing up and down, and the wetness immediately coated his fingers. He found her clit, swollen and needy, and began to rub his fingers on it in circles. The moist friction between his hand and her pussy emitted pornographic sounds from not only the wetness of her cunt, but also her mouth as it let out breathy moans and whimpers with each rotation of his hand. Rani’s eyes were closed through the ordeal because of her embarrassment and fear, but she could feel the eyes of the green masked-man piercing through her soul like daggers. She knew she was in for a long night.

The man with the blue balaclava walked over to the other side of Rani’s bed. Her head was already faced on the side he was walking to due to her not wanting to face Green Mask as he relentlessly rubbed her pussy, and Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to undo his black pants and throw them off to some corner of the room. His bulge was peeking through his briefs, precum seeping out in a little spot of the grey fabric, and Rani’s eyes teared up even more knowing what Blue’s next move was.

But Blue Mask smirked, and all he did was inch his covered bulge up to Rani’s mouth, and her saliva immediately started to smear onto it. “Gotta give you the appetizer before the main course, right?’” He stated as he watched Rani’s eyes look up at him in confusion. “Suck through the fabric, baby.”

Rani immediately began to suck onto the man’s underwear, her lips and tongue feeling the shape and size of his cock as she did so. Despite her fast and immediate movements, Rani wasn’t optimistic at all, she just wanted to do whatever the men wanted her to do, hoping that it would help her go through this situation easily and quickly. They obviously had weapons, reminding herself internally as she thought about the hammer that was just in the hands of the man whose boxers she’s now sucking through, or the knife that stuck through the pocket of the man currently twiddling at her clit.

Green Mask stopped his circular motions on her clit and slapped her cunt a couple of times, her wetness squirting out in little splashes as he did so. Her moans from Green’s actions vibrated through Blue Mask’s underwear and went straight to his length, making the rather dull experience of her sucking through his fabric a bit more pleasurable. Green stuck two of his fingers into Rani’s hole and began to thrust in and out her, sometimes curling them to stimulate her g-spot. Rani’s muffled moans against Blue’s bulge grew louder and therefore caused the vibrations against his cock to become more intense, making him moan alongside her.

“C’mon, I need you to cum for me fast like a good girl. We don’t have all night,” He stated as he picked up the pace of his fingers’ thrusts, adding another finger sneakily to stimulate the girl’s cunt even more. Rani’s moans against Blue’s bulge became even more muffled as she shoved her own face into him. Still flooded with embarrassment, her orgasm neared and she presumed that hiding her face from the men’s view would shed some of her fears away. Instead, it egged the men on to be more rough with her, Blue Mask now holding her by the back of her head further into his bulge preventing her from breathing while Green began to curl against her G-spot even faster. Rani’s body jolted not by much because of her constraints, but just enough for her to have a dramatic reaction as she orgasmed, her pussy leaking out more of her fluids onto Green’s gloved hand.

Green Mask released himself from the grasp of her cunt and sucked on each of his fingers, getting every taste of Rani’s arousal into his mouth. He looked over to Blue, who released Rani from his crotch and watched as she tried catching her breath. “Y’wanna switch places?” He questioned him, completely dismissing Rani’s existence despite her recent orgasm.

Immediately, Blue nodded his head. He explained, “Wanna taste the mess she made. I mean, the way she got your eyes rolling back, she must taste good, yeah?” 

Green nodded a yes as he wiped his saliva off his fingers onto Rani’s stomach, as if she was some sort of towel. She whimpered at the feeling, but the men didn’t even pay her any mind, almost as if she was, as they had said before, just some toy they were playing with. “And I wanna see how she takes cock in her mouth, how deep she can take one,” he said and smirked as he swapped places with Blue, the crotch of his pants now in front of Rani’s swollen, wet lips. “You can take cock, right, love?” He slapped at her face as he noticed her expression a bit dazed from her previous actions with Blue Mask. “Huh, you can take cock? Deep in that throat?” 

Rani nodded. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, sir.” She gulped as she prepared herself physically and mentally for what the two men had in store for her next.

Green’s fingers then tugged at his pants’ zipper until it was fully unzipped, and he threw his pants and briefs in the same place Blue threw his. “Sir, hmm…” his lips turned into a smirk as he placed his tip onto her lips, his precum staining them, “I like that. Don’t you boys like the sound of that?”

Pink Mask chuckled from where he was, his eyes fully immersed in what was happening before him. His pants were down, Rani noticed, and his hand was wrapped around his cock. He must’ve finished going through the bag while the other men were hypnotizing her from both ends, she inferred. “Sir sounds lovely. Suits you well. I’m more of a ‘Daddy’ kind of guy. Hey,” he gestured over to Blue Mask, who was on his knees taking in the sight of Rani’s cunt before him, “What name do you want her to call you?” He handed a device over to Blue Mask, who smirked as he grasped the long object. Rani recognized it quickly- it was a Hitachi wand.

In the midst of thinking about his answer, he began slowly rubbing at Rani’s clit and gave her labia a little kitten lick. “Mm, how about Master?” He looked up at Rani, but his eyes widened as he recalled Rani’s skin color. “Uh, actually no, not Master. I’m not into the raceplay shit. Sorry ‘bout that.” He gave Rani’s clit a kiss and a lick, turning the wand on, before speaking again. “I guess Mister is better, right? Y’wanna call me Mister, babe?”

Rani was about to say yes, but ended up only nodding with a muffled moan coming from her mouth as Green Mask shoved his cock into it. Her eyes flooded with tears and flowed down her cheeks as he fucked her throat, his tip hitting so far back that she knew it would ache when he was done. Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to nudge the wand against his clit, causing Rani’s body to jolt again and throat to gag against Green’s cock.

Pink Mask went up to Rani and occupied himself by messing with her breasts. His thumb and index finger of both hands started to twist and pull at her nipples. The sounds she was making around Green’s cock encouraged him to continue with his own movements, slapping each breast after every pull of her nipple. He then settled on using one hand to play with her boobs as the other slipped around his cock and began to jerk himself off. With every sound that emitted from Rani, whether it was the sound of her throat being used, or the sounds of Blue Mask’s tongue lapping at her cunt, his cock slipped out more precum that allowed the movements of his hand to be slicker, and his head threw back at his pleasure.

Green’s cock continued to fuck into Rani’s mouth, his hands on each side of her head guiding her up and down his shaft as if her mouth was a fleshlight. The sound of his cock making her gag as he went in and out of the top of her esophagus made him moan. “You hear all those fuckin’ sounds?” He let out a laugh that forced his abdomen to move and make his cock vibrate inside of Rani’s throat. “The gawk-gawk-gawk?,” he mimicked the noises coming out of her throat as he continued his movements.

Blue Mask laughed as he continued licking Rani’s pussy, those vibrations traveling inside of her as well. “That’s what they call that ‘Gawk-gawk 3000’, right? That’s what you got honey,” he started to vigorously rub at her clit to emphasize his statements, “You got a Gawk-gawk 3000!” He slapped at her cunt a couple of times before placing his face back to her hole and thrusting his tongue in and out of her. The wand on her clit began to rub in circles, maximizing the pleasure she received from it all around.

Pink Mask continued to play with Rani’s tits with one hand as he watched the scene in front of him. He didn’t know which hole to look at- her mouth or her pussy- as he continued to jerk himself off with his other hand. It was all so overwhelming.

“Fuck,” Green moaned out, “Lick my ballsack, too.” He positioned himself to allow Rani easier access to his balls, and she began to lick and suck at them before heading back to his shaft, repeatedly moving between both parts of his body. She heard his moans, distorted yet beautiful, and it indirectly encouraged her to suck at him with more effort. “Fuck, shit,” he moaned out as the pleasure increased, but he suddenly began furrowing his eyebrows in frustration. “F-Fuck off me, bitch.” He slapped Rani’s face with enough impact to make her flinch off of his dick, causing her to cough and snort some mucus that was about to drip from her nose due to her crying. “I was about to cum inside your mouth,” he said as some sort of justification for stopping. “We wouldn’t wanna end the fun so fast, huh?” 

Rani moaned, not even paying attention to Green Mask because of what Blue Mask was doing to her pussy. He turned off the wans and threw it to the side as his lips sucked around her clit and his index and middle finger fucked into her hole, little spurts of arousal squirting out of her as it had done with Green Mask’s prior motions. Pink Mask stopped his own movements with Rani’s tits as he reached that same hand to push down onto Rani’s lower stomach. He knew this pressure would help to escalate Rani’s pleasure and make her orgasm come faster. Rani looked over at Green Mask, who was still calming himself down from facefucking her moments earlier, and pouted at him. Her eyes were pouring with tears, mouth was drooling, and her bottom lip was quivering; he knew the girl was close. “Feel good, yeah?” Rani moaned and whined out little “yeah’s” as he and the other men continued to egg her on with more questions and statements. 

“You gonna cum all over his fingers? Like a good girl?”

“You’re making a proper mess, sweetheart.”

“Fuckin’ squirt in my mouth, bitch.”

One final curl of his fingers and one final slap at her clit caused Rani to squirt like a broken fountain. She had no control over it, and some of the liquid flew all the way to her bedroom door before Blue Mask brought his mouth directly over her hole and drank whatever he could catch. 

Pink Mask let go from her abdomen and started to untie the knot from one of the bedposts on his side. “Untie those,” he commanded Green, and Rani felt relieved to be removed from her rather uncomfortable confinements. 

In spite of all of the commotion and the mental toll the situation had on her, Rani made sure to take mental notes of all of the men in the room. The one with the clean pink balaclava, seemingly the leader, had green eyes and a strand of dark-colored hair that stuck onto his forehead. He had an English accent, something similar to her boyfriend’s. Mr. Blue Mask had blue eyes, which she presumed was his reason for picking the color. He was quite a silly character in this situation, sort of the comic relief between all three men, so it would make sense. The one in the green mask (definitely a homemade one she might add), had freckles at the tops of cheeks and around his brown eyes. His accent was thick, but it wasn’t English like Pink’s. Maybe he was Australian? Or was he from New Zealand? She couldn’t tell, but it was definitely sexy. She knew that one’s name was “Jake” from hearing Blue Mask groan his name out of annoyance. Wait, Jake? That sounded familiar. But, wait, she didn’t know of any Jake’s. She knew a Jacob, who was one of Harry’s friends at work, but not any Jake’s. She quickly shrugged off that thought before the pink-masked man grabbed her by her jaw and tilted it up to face him.

“Dirty fucking whore.” Pink spat in Rani’s face and the fluid landed on her lips. “Lick it off.” He watched as Rani’s tongue worked itself over her lips and brought his saliva into her mouth. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Had a mint.”

Rani did taste the mint flavor and that exact flavor reminded her of her boyfriend. Her eyes started to well with tears as she thought about him- his smile, his laugh, his face, and how he could help her in this situation. She missed him. She needed him. 

But he wasn’t here right now. His face wasn’t amongst these three men. In fact, no face was among the men, just masks, gloves, and distorted, modified voices. She didn’t feel like she was having sex with three men; she felt like an object only being used for their pleasure. It wasn’t the worst feeling, though. She’d spoken to Harry about a fantasy like this- her house being broken into by an intruder who would come across her and find ways to use her body for his satisfaction before he left with the loot. She was lightly enjoying this, she couldn’t lie. And it was obvious the men could pick up on that. She just wished Harry was one of the men under the masks.

He grabbed onto her shoulder and squeezed them to get her full attention before instructing her, “Turn around and get on your knees by the end of the bed. Now!”

Rani fell to her knees as she felt Pink Mask give her a push to the floor by her shoulders. Her knees buckled onto the floor, and her eyes met with Blue Mask, who made his way onto the bed and positioned himself in a way that made his ass meet with Rani’s face. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked at what was before her, and she tilted her head at Pink Mask awaiting his further instructions.

“You’re gonna eat his ass,” he said sternly. “You understand?” Looking down at her, he could see her hesitation in her movements, but her eyes anticipated trying. 

She had licked her boyfriend Harry’s ass before, but it was only two times, and she didn’t think she was that good. But Harry was always amazing at licking hers, and she tried to remember what movements he would make with his tongue to help her out in this situation. So, she placed her hands on each of Blue Mask’s buttocks and put her tongue to work, running it along the rim of his hole in slow and smooth circles.

Blue felt the dampness of her tongue move around his hole and, although distorted due to the voice modifier, whimpered at the feeling. He wrapped his hand around the shaft of his length and began to stroke himself. The feeling was just indescribable.

Pink decided that he wanted in on the action, so he kneeled behind Rani. He didn’t give her any warning before shifting her body in a way that made her go on all fours- he needed better access to play with her cunt as he was the only one who hadn’t even touched  it out of the three, and the boys didn’t have much time left with the girl. They couldn’t risk doing this for much longer, and he needed to feel her.

Green Mask watched the scene in front of him- Rani’s focused face licking her tongue around Blue Mask’s ass with his face screwed in pleasure. “Yes, doll, lick his fucking ass like the slut you are,” Green Mask commanded with a laugh at the end of his statement. He was mocking her, but in some weird way it made Rani��s lower abdomen churn with pleasure. “Yes, Sir,” she moaned back at him, his words somehow encouraging her to lick with more vigor.

“Ohhhh,” Blue Mask emitted a moan and jerked himself off in faster strokes. His balls sat atop Rani’s forehead, and the friction between the body parts gave him more pleasure. “She’s too good at this, fuckin- shit,” he managed to get out of him amidst his moans and grunts. His accent (New York? Pennsylvania? She wasn’t sure.)  seemed to get thicker with the more intense he felt.

Pink Mask slapped Rani’s ass, causing her to moan into Blue Mask’s hole but never ceasing her tongue’s movements. “She’s definitely done this before, yeah?,” Pink asked her, and she moaned loudly, which was seemingly her way of saying yes. “That’s a lucky partner you got, I’m sure of it.” His fingers started to rub against her pussy, dragging along the outside of her labia repeatedly before smacking at her ass again. “Dripping like a broken tap, love. He did a number on your cunt earlier, didn’t he?” He was referring to Green Mask, who was now by the duffel bag and bent over the floor, trying to find one of the items Pink Mask removed from the bag earlier. 

Rani managed to crack some sort of smile as she continued licking at Blue’s ass. “Yes, Daddy,” she answered with a lisp since her tongue was busy.

“He made you feel so good, right, love?” He questioned again, running his thumb up and down between both of her holes, which surprisingly soothed her. 

The girl nodded again. “Yes, Daddy, so good. Mister made me feel good, too,” she looked up at Blue, who forced himself to look down into her eyes at the call of his other name “Mister”. He smirked and groaned, “Yeah? That’s good. And you’re doing such a good job at licking me, sweetheart.”

Rani’s hole pulsated when Blue praised her, and Pink noticed from his view. He loved seeing her aroused, and Blue wasn’t wrong about her satisfactory work. But he wanted to end the praise session and intensify the situation for his own satisfaction, so he slapped her ass and spread her cheeks open as wide as he could. “Stick your tongue down his asshole and move it in and out, whore. And don’t say another word.”

Rani yelped at the feeling of Pink manhandling her rear, and simply nodded as she followed his instructions. Her tongue stuck out and found itself inside Blue Mask’s puckered hole, beginning her thrusts with her tongue.

Once Green found what he was looking for, he walked over to Pink and, unbeknownst to Rani, handed him a tube filled with something clear. “She’s gonna love this shit, man.” he said to Pink, causing Pink to chuckle. 

Rani continued her actions against Blue’s ass and managed to lick at his balls a bit as well. Blue was in heaven with this girl, he couldn’t believe it. He needed to break into more houses and find other kinky bitches to lick his ass.

A click was heard from behind Rani, as if something was opening. She didn’t think about it much until she felt something cold land between her ass and into her asshole, some even running down her vagina. She then felt something be shoved right into her asshole, spreading the hole wide and stretching it in a way that hurt a little. She’d never had anal sex, the furthest she had gone was getting licked there by her boyfriend, so the feeling caused her to jolt away from Pink’s grasp before he pulled her right back over to him. “Did I tell you to fuckin’ move?” He questioned her, slapping her ass a couple of times before removing the object from her ass. 

She was about to answer until she remembered Pink demanding her not to say another word. Instead, she went back to leaving little kitten licks and sucks on Blue’s ballsack before, again, feeling an object being shoved inside her ass again, this time deeper than it has been before. She assumed if it wasn’t for the substance (she now realized it was most likely lube) dripped inside of her hole, the experience of this thing in her ass definitely would’ve felt worse than it did now. She only felt pressure and a stretch as the man behind her continuously thrusted the object back and forth into her asshole, using his fingers to rub at her clit which, surprisingly, also helped her be accustomed to this first anal experience.

Green Mask only sat back on a sofa Rani had in her room and watched what was happening in front of him, his cock dripping with anticipation to join in. But, he knew his place and knew what all three of them had in store for the girl next and decided to just wait his turn. Besides, he didn’t mind watching people fuck from the sidelines every now and then.

“Fuck,” Rani moaned under her breath and she threw her head down at the pleasure behind her. But, Pink didn’t like that and slapped at her ass with the object shoved as far as it could go into her asshole, causing Rani to wince in pain. “Shut the fuck up before I make you, pig.”

Rani didn’t say a word as she began to cry and went back to thrusting into Blue’s ass, Blue now jerking his cock at the sight. Her cries were so adorable, so thrilling, so sexy, and it made the pleasure he was receiving even more intense than it already was, as if that was even possible. “Fuck, you gotta stop it, girl,” he said, and Rani removed her head from between his ass until-

“Keep licking at him. And you’re not stopping until you cum for me,” Pink informed her, using one of his hands to shove her face right into Blue’s ass. Rani’s moans vibrated against Blue’s asshole as Pink shoved the object he was using into her even deeper and thrusted even faster. His fingers rubbed at Rani’s clit at a tantalizing pace, and Rani knew that if she focused on something else, Blue’s ass in this case, her climax would come faster. And so, she moaned into his ass and used her own hand to wank Blue’s dick for him. He wanted to protest against this as he went into this experience wanting to be in full control of his victim, but her smooth hand gliding against his cock felt too good to resist.

A few more thrusts went on before Pink paused, leaving the object inside of her ass as deep as he could, but continued his rotations around her wet, dripping cunt. He watched Rani’s facial expressions to the best of his abilities at his position, seeing that her face indicated her orgasm was approaching her once again for the night. He continued at the pace he was in, and Rani’s cunt pulsated as she neared her peak. “Alright, I want you to push your asshole as much as you can as you cum,” he commanded with a grunt, and Rani nodded as she followed his instructions, wincing out loud at the feeling of her pushing and her orgasm. Rani’s pussy finally squirted onto the floor, leaving a puddle that made a splash as the object once in her asshole landed on the mess. 

Pink kept her ass spread and his eyes marveled at the sight of her gaped asshole and her pussy weeping in front of him. It was the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen. Quickly, he glanced over at Green Mask, who rose from his seat and went over to Pink and Rani’s ass knowing that it was his cue. He picked up a polaroid camera from the floor by the duffel bag and snapped a picture of Rani’s asshole and pussy from the perfect angle. He knew Pink wanted to savor this moment, as he had discussed this scenario with him before.

Rani finally ceased the thrusts of her tongue at Blue Mask’s hole and removed her hand’s grasp from his cock. She and Pink Mask stood up from their positions, and Pink shoved the fingers he was using at her cunt into her mouth for her to suck on. She sucked on them, staring into his eyes as she did so before he finally removed them from her lips abruptly..

As Rani looked at the floor, she noticed the object that was used in her ass: a dildo longer and thicker than a cucumber. She looked over at Pink and saw him smirking, knowing that that look on his face came from seeing her own reaction to the object. 

She then heard Green Mask whistle and looked over his direction, noticing him laying on the bed. “Come on up here, gorgeous,” Green winked at her from under the mask and slapped his hands onto his thighs.

Rani stood in place, not really wanting to join Green onto the bed. She knew he wanted her to ride him, but having another man penetrate her just seemed so… disrespectful to her. And it  would be especially disrespectful to her boyfriend if he ever found out. Blue grabbed Rani’s shoulders from behind and began to walk her over to the bed before lifting her up and throwing her right leg on the opposite side of Green’s body. She was now in reverse cowgirl position, which surprised her, but she went along with it anyway, not really wanting to protest the men around her. But of course, the guilt of being fucked by another man still crept up on her and she muttered, rather shyly,-

“I have… I have a boyfriend.”

Green Mask paused his actions and brought Rani down to his chest, making her look into his eyes. “You’re telling us this now?” There was a pause before he let out a cackle, causing the other two men to laugh in suit. “After this man over here made you gape and the other one had his ass eaten by you? Now is when you say you mention a boyfriend? After squirting in front of three other men?” All of the men continued laughing. It was the most humiliating thing Rani was ever subjected to, and the tears on her face and whimpering of her mouth were proof of that. Yet somehow, it turned her on?

The man with the pink mask got onto the bed on his knees and slapped his cock onto Rani’s pussy as he spoke. “Well I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind if we played with his toy for a bit, huh?” Rani’s lower body jolted, not like she could escape the situation anyway. “Trust me, honey, you’re going to love what we’re gonna do to you. I mean, your pussy is kinda proving how much you love it already,” He paused to stick his tip in, but pulled it out before starting up his slaps again. “And even if you don’t, we don’t really give a fuck. This night is for us to enjoy. Your cries for help aren’t gonna stop us. Your little boyfriend isn’t here to stop us.”

The glow of Rani’s face washed away as she felt the pink masked man stick himself inside of her, inch by inch, slowly getting deeper. “Don’t worry, love. We’re all clean here. A little raw sex never hurts anyone if they’re clean,” he said, as if that would make her feel any better. 

Rani didn’t even get to utter a moan before a cock thrusted into her mouth. The woman gagged and slobbered onto Blue Mask’s shaft as he forced himself deeper with every stroke. “There we go,” Green Mask prodded on as he watched Rani with Blue’s length. “You’re a pro at taking cock, sweetheart,” he groaned as he played with her tits from behind.

The feeling of Pink and Blue both inside opposite ends of her body made her gag and choke onto the cock in her mouth. Mucus fell from her nose and tears ran down her cheeks, the scene getting messier with every movement.

Green ran one of his hands down between her ass and his waist. He gripped his cock and gave it a few strokes before lining it up with her asshole, and Rani didn’t even realize this happening before he finally slithered his thick cock inside of her.

Pink Mask continued his own thrusts into the clenching cunt around him as he felt Green Mask’s cock glide against the wall that separated both of Rani’s canals. He groaned a low and drawn out “Fuckkk,” at the feeling; it was unlike anything else he had felt before. 

Rani choked onto Blue’s cock, saliva spurting out from either corner of her lips, as she felt the intrusion of another cock into her other hole. Three men were not inside of each of her holes. “What the fuck was even happening anymore?” was the last thought that passed through her mind before all three men gripped at her body from their respective position and began to fuck into her relentlessly. 

Pink and Green’s cocks moved simultaneously in and out of Rani’s cunt and ass, and they could even feel each other through the membrane that separated the two holes, maximizing the feelings they were already experiencing. Pink stared at Rani and watched all of her facial expressions as she managed to get fucked in her mouth by Blue. He paused the two for a moment and grabbed onto Rani’s jaw, forcing her to face him. His emerald eyes stared into hers, his eyebrows furrowed and forehead dripping with sweat just as she was, and Rani’s cunt clenched around him as she lingered in his stare. Everything started to make sense. 

Pink pulled Rani towards him and sunk his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking at her own tongue and her lips before he pulled away and slapped her back down to Blue’s dick. “Keep sucking on him, bitch,” he was able to grunt out despite him being overwhelmed by all that was happening.

The room was filled with sweaty, sticky bodies slapping into each other and gags and chokes that came from Rani’s throat as Blue skull-fucked her. The men continued to egg her on with their own dirty talk, but not much was coming from Rani’s end of the conversation. Blue pulled out of her and watched as her head immediately threw back, almost like her head and neck were too numb to stand up on their own. “Damn, that bitch is braindead,” he commented with a chuckle, and the two other men took notice of this mention. 

Green slapped Rani's face a couple of times, but received no feedback from Rani other than a drunken moan. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered underneath his breath. He used his fingers of one hand to hook onto a corner of her mouth, which left her lips ajar, drool finding its way out from between. The drool landed onto her chest, as to which Pink bent over to lick it up and swirl it around in his mouth before spitting it back into Rani’s mouth. Rather, it missed and landed onto her cheek, but Rani was too intoxicated by her gangbang that she didn’t even flinch.

The two men fucking into Rani’s cunt and anus lifted up their hips to pick up their paces inside of her, Rani still too high to respond with anything other than a moan. Green let go of the corner of Rani’s mouth and gripped the back of her head to shove her mouth back onto Blue’s dick. Blue took the reigns and began face-fucking her again, this time with more desperation and speed. 

All of the men were finally close to cumming after more thrusts and grunts, and they could all feel it in their lower stomachs. The first to release was Green, who shot his cum so deep into her asshole, but he held his cock in place in order to not let anything drip out of her, not yet at least. 

Pink was next and did the same as Green, plugging his dick inside of her cunt and preventing any of his cum from spilling out of her.

Finally, it was Blue’s turn, and he shot his cum deep into her throat before smacking Rani’s cheek and grabbing her by her jawline. “Swallow my cum, whore.”

Rani regained consciousness from his grip at her jaw and somehow found a way to force herself to swallow his seed. She felt the thick substance slide down the walls of her esophagus and then looked at the two other men inside of her.

“We��re gonna pull out of you,” Pink started, “But we gotta make you cum first.” As he finished his statement, he and Green began their thrusts again. The thrusts of their cocks into her cum-filled holes caused their milky substances to squirt through the sides of her holes, splattering all over her bed. Pink rubbed at her clitoris while Green twisted her nipples and pulled at them before finally, Rani came. A loud pornographic moan filled the room as she climaxed, and she squirted all over Pink’s chest and torso. He and Green finally pulled out of her, and Pink watched as their beautiful concoction of fluids spilled from both of her holes. Blue had the polaroid camera in his hands and shot pictures of the entire orgasm. Pink knew he would have a fun time looking at the pictures later.

The three men in the room got themselves composed before they heard an attention-grabbing cough come from the bed. It was Rani, who was obviously composed and very aware of what just happened.

“Thank you so much,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Harry, for that wonderful night”

The man in the pink mask chuckled, and finally took off his mask, revealing himself to Rani as her boyfriend. “Glad you enjoyed this, sweetheart,” He blushed, “but what gave me away?”

“I looked into your eyes. No one has green eyes as beautiful as yours.”

“Oh,” he laughed again. “I guess I should’ve worn contacts.”

“Also, you were being really possessive about cumming inside of my pussy. I know how possessive you get when it comes to me,” she continued and smirked at him.

Harry laughed and went up to Rani to kiss her on her cheek, which was still warm and stinging from the men slapping her all night. “You’re right. Should’ve controlled that a bit more.”

“No baby, I thought it was really cute. I’m shocked that your friends agreed to this. Actually, I’m shocked that you thought of this whole thing in the first place.”

Harry let out a warm smile and brushed his fingers through his hair, which was matted from being confined to the balaclava. “Yeah, well remember the conversation we were having about our kinks and deepest desires? I wanted to do something special for my girl, especially since our anniversary is coming up. I wanted to help you mark something off of your bucket list.”

Rani scoffed, “More like a couple of things.” Then, she looked toward the Blue Masked Man. “And I mean, Jake?” Blue’s eyes widened and he let out a “whoops” as Rani continued. “You kinda slipped that one out, Timmy.”

Timmy, or Timothee, removed his mask along with Green Mask, the Jake in question, following him with his own. TImothee and Jake, who was the “Jacob” Rani thought of before, were Harry’s work buddies and best friends. “So it wasn’t really a business trip, huh, guys?”

Jacob raised his hand to butt in. “Well, you could say it kinda was. I mean it was a job we all took part in to help our friend. I guess?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure,” Rani said, “Anyway, I had fun guys. I don’t know if I’d ever do something like that again, though. It took soooo much out of me.”

Harry kissed her temple and smiled. “Yeah, well never say never.”

“By the way, we didn’t take anything from your house,” Jacob stated, lifting up one of the bags he and TImothee went around the house with at the beginning, and showed her the contents of it. “It was just styrofoam we brought with us to give that illusion.

Rani laughed and shook her head. “Y’all are just too much.”

The four of them sat in her bedroom and discussed what went on that night, watching as the sun rose from Rani’s window. Harry held onto his girl, feeling like such a proud boyfriend. He fell in love with Rani even more than ever.