#but omg my legs are frozen
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tevos · 1 month ago
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i love her so fucking much 🥹
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months ago
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Omg god can you please do a forced marriage au. Where reader is being weirdly clingy(Ik it doesn’t really fit her vibe) and rafe’s weirded out. And she kisses him unexpectedly and he’s so confused.
Drunk kisses || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: fluffy fic which ik all of you have been wanting in this au so u are welcome ;)
Warnings: none really just fluff
Word count: 2,380
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
Rafe barely glanced up from his laptop when the front doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet of the house, but he quickly resumed typing, thinking nothing of it at first. It rang again, more insistently this time, drawing his attention. He frowned, closing his laptop and glancing toward the hallway.
"Anita?" he called out, expecting the familiar shuffle of the housekeeper’s footsteps. But silence greeted him in return. He checked his watch—it was past midnight. Of course, everyone had gone home by now.
With a frustrated sigh, Rafe stood and headed toward the foyer, the steady ringing making him wonder who could possibly be at their door at such an ungodly hour. He glanced at the small display screen by the entrance, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. You were slumped against your sister, who looked like she was struggling to hold you upright. Rafe’s confusion deepened as he swung open the door.
Before he could say anything, you staggered forward, collapsing right into his arms. Charlotte let out a startled gasp, covering her mouth in shock as Rafe instinctively caught you, his hands gripping your waist to steady you. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, trying to process what was happening. You looked up at him with a lazy, drunken smile, the scent of alcohol heavy on your breath.
The sight of you—usually so composed and poised—now giggling like a carefree girl was jarring. “Oh, look, Lottie! It’s my husband. My gorgeous husb—” you slurred, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you tried to blow a strand of hair away from your face. But before you could finish, Rafe cut you off, his annoyance already simmering beneath the surface.
"How much did you let her drink?" he snapped, turning his icy blue gaze toward Charlotte. There was disbelief in his voice, a hint of something protective and yet frustrated. You had been out of control before, but never like this. “I—I tried,” Charlotte stammered, her face flushed with guilt. “I gave her something else—”
“What? More alcohol?” Rafe’s tone was sharp, and Charlotte flinched under his harsh words. He couldn’t believe it. You were usually guarded, careful—this wasn’t like you at all. Rafe glanced down at you again, a mixture of irritation and concern flashing across his face as you leaned further into him, still smiling like the world was spinning too slowly for you.
"We're supposed to have breakfast with your parents tomorrow," he muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw clenched, the thought of having to face them with you like this filling him with dread. As much as he loathed the idea of those formal meals, they mattered in your world—the perfect image you were both supposed to maintain.
Rafe struggled to keep you upright, your legs barely cooperating as you leaned heavily against him, still giggling softly. His frustration flared again, and he shot a sharp glance at Charlotte, who stood frozen in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. “How the hell did this even happen?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.
Charlotte hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “She… she just kept ordering more drinks. I tried to stop her, I swear, but she insisted. And, well, you know how stubborn she can get.” Rafe let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I know." He looked down at you as you murmured something incoherent, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.
"And you didn’t think to call me? Or at least cut her off?” “I—” Charlotte started but quickly swallowed her words when Rafe’s icy gaze met hers again. "I thought she'd sober up. I didn’t want to make a scene… and she kept saying she was fine." "Clearly, she’s not fine," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp as he adjusted his grip on you, trying to stop you from slipping further down his side.
“You should’ve stopped her. God, Charlotte, you know we have that damn breakfast tomorrow.” Charlotte’s eyes widened as if realising the gravity of the situation all over again. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand…” Rafe clenched his jaw, his patience thinning with each passing second. “Well, it did. And now I have to deal with this.” He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as he hoisted you up a little higher.
“Mmm… Rafe," you mumbled softly, your head lolling against his chest. “You're always so serious.” Your words slurred together, and you let out another soft laugh, as if this entire situation was some kind of joke. Rafe's brow furrowed, his annoyance tempered for a moment by the sight of you so completely out of character. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—carefree, uninhibited, and honestly, it unnerved him.
“You should go home, Charlotte,” Rafe finally said, his voice quieter now but still holding that authoritative edge. “I’ll take care of her.” Your sister looked hesitant, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. "Are you sure? I can help—" "No, just go. You've done enough." His tone left no room for argument, and Charlotte sighed in defeat, giving him a small nod before stepping back toward the door.
“I really am sorry,” she murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She cast one last glance at you, who was now resting your head against Rafe’s chest, your arms loosely draped around his neck. Rafe didn’t respond, his attention now fully on you as Charlotte finally made her exit.
The front door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit foyer. You stirred in his arms, blinking up at him with bleary eyes, the remnants of your smile still lingering. “You always look so serious, Rafe,” you whispered, your words thick with exhaustion. “Why can’t you just… relax?” Rafe sighed deeply, his frustration mixing with an odd sense of helplessness.
He wasn’t used to feeling like this—torn between annoyance and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Because someone has to be," he muttered, more to himself than to you. You giggled again, leaning your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should be serious too, then. Like you. So we can both be… boring together.” You laughed softly at your own words, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his chest.
Rafe’s lips twitched again, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through his usually stoic expression. You were a mess, slurring your words and giggling like a child, but in the soft, dim glow of the foyer, you looked undeniably beautiful. Strands of hair framed your face in a way that made you seem even more delicate, your skin glowing faintly under the soft lighting.
For a fleeting moment, he found himself captivated by how vulnerable and unguarded you appeared—so different from the strong-willed woman he was used to. But he quickly shook the thought away, forcing himself to stay focused. This was not the time to get caught up in sentiment. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, though still touched with that same gentleness that had snuck in earlier.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed before you say something else you’ll regret.” His eyes lingered on your face, watching as your expression shifted from amusement to a peaceful kind of daze. The way you leaned further into him, trusting him completely in your intoxicated state, stirred something unexpected within him—an unfamiliar blend of protectiveness and tenderness.
It unsettled him, but he pushed it aside, convincing himself it was just the responsibility of the moment. You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed, a contented sigh slipping past your lips. “Mmm… my gorgeous husband, taking care of me,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge that made Rafe’s heart beat a little faster.
Even drunk, you were still testing him, still finding a way to get under his skin. He rolled his eyes, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your gorgeous husband,” he muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused as he tightened his grip on you, making sure you were secure in his arms. “Let’s just focus on getting you upstairs in one piece.”
You chuckled softly, your head resting more comfortably against his chest, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. “Always so serious…” you mumbled, your voice trailing off as sleep began to claim you. Rafe glanced down at you again, shaking his head slightly. Even in this state, you still managed to get to him. He started moving toward the stairs, his steps careful as he balanced your weight against his own.
Rafe opened the door to your shared room, his movements steady as he guided you into the closet. “Here, you should get changed into something more comfortable,” he murmured, opening a drawer and pulling out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized one you often stole when you didn’t want to bother with your own clothes. He handed it to you, watching as your tired gaze shifted toward the shirt before flickering back to him.
“Can… can you help me take my dress off?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice tinged with exhaustion and the alcohol that still clouded your thoughts. You gave him those wide, pleading doe eyes that always managed to catch him off guard. Rafe inhaled sharply but quickly nodded. He’d seen you like this before���unguarded, your skin bare, but it never failed to stir something in him.
It wasn’t the sight of your skin that unsettled him; he was used to that. Over time, in this strange forced marriage, he’d grown accustomed to the intimacy of shared space, of your body in close proximity. It was the trust you displayed, the way you asked for his help now, that threw him off balance. You turned around, shifting your hair to one side, exposing the zipper of your dress.
Rafe reached for it, fingers grazing your back as he slowly pulled the zipper down, the fabric sliding easily off your shoulders. His eyes briefly flickered to the dress, a slight frown on his face—it was shorter than he liked, something he wasn’t thrilled about you wearing out. But now, as you stepped out of it, all he could think about was how fragile you looked.
You grabbed the shirt from his hands and pulled it over your head, the soft cotton falling past your thighs as you kicked off your heels with a relieved sigh. Rafe watched you for a moment longer before quietly guiding you toward the bathroom. He rummaged through the drawer, pulling out your toothbrush and squeezing toothpaste onto it before handing it to you. You brushed your teeth lazily, your movements growing slower as your eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling in.
Rafe stood by, waiting until you were done before helping you back to the bed. Just as your body sank into the soft sheets, ready to drift off into sleep, he lightly patted your cheek, keeping you from completely fading. "Uh-uh, gotta get that makeup off, or you'll throw a fit tomorrow morning," Rafe teased, reaching for the wipes on your vanity. You groaned in protest, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I won’t.”
“Yes, you will,” Rafe retorted, walking back over and sitting on the edge of the bed. He began gently wiping the makeup from your face, his touch careful and methodical. He had done this before, knew the routine, and though the task was mundane, there was an unspoken closeness in these moments that neither of you ever acknowledged.
He returned to the bed, sitting beside you as he carefully wiped away the layers of makeup. His touch was gentle, more considerate than you expected, his brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure to remove every trace. You gazed up at him through heavy lids, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin and the softness of his gestures.
When he was done, he moved to pull away, but your fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him. Rafe looked at you, confusion briefly crossing his face, but the intensity in your gaze softened him. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice tender, vulnerable in a way it rarely was. Your eyes drifted to his lips, your heart picking up speed as the moment stretched between you.
Rafe swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he nodded, his voice hushed. “Of course.” Without another word, you gently pulled him closer, closing the space between you. Your lips met his in a slow, tentative kiss—an action that felt more like a quiet confession than anything else. Rafe stiffened at first, but then his lips moved against yours, soft yet firm, as though the weight of the night had brought you both to this point.
But he pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching yours for something he wasn’t even sure of. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, pulling the sheets up to tuck you in. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a second longer than usual before he stood, leaving the room without another glance.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains as you slowly lifted your head from the pillow, a dull throb of pain radiating through your temples. You winced, squinting against the brightness as the events of the previous night came flooding back—Charlotte, the drinks, Rafe helping you to bed, and… the kiss.
You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets move beside you. Glancing over, you saw Rafe’s sleeping form, his features relaxed. He lay facing you, still half-asleep, though he must have sensed your movement because he mumbled groggily, “On your bedside table.”
You turned, spotting the glass of water and the medicine waiting for you. A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pounding in your head. Even when his words were rough, his actions showed a softness you were beginning to see more often.
You reached for the water and pills, the gesture not lost on you. As you downed the water, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, wondering if, beneath all the tension and complications between you, something deeper had started to bloom.
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago
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Omg!! Think you can do the opposite version of the hickey ask? Where the guys notice a hickey and get all jealous n’ pissy🤩 i love it & your writing🥰
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Ha! Anon, you have me giggling and kicking my feet. The hickey ask anon is talking about can be found HERE, but I absolutely love the idea of doing the opposite. Instead of a hickey on one of the guys, it's on reader. hehe. (oh god I need to go touch grass or maybe use my teeth to the mow the lawn right now because I am salivating).
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, possessive behavior, rough kissing, secret relationships, suggestive themes, jealousy
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
John’s grip on your upper arm is a vice.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, voice low.
“Let go, John,” you snap. “You’re going to cause a scene.”
“Am I?” he counters. “Everyone’s already been talking. You’re showing that thing off on your neck like you’re proud of it.”
“Maybe I am,” you reply. “Why do you care?”
With a quick tug, John plasters you against him. His body is all heat and muscle. Everything in you ramps up, becomes wanton. It remembers him.
“Who the fuck touched what’s mine?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.
You swallow. Shake your head. “I’m not yours, John. You always push me away.”
John’s lips come dangerously close to yours. “Tell me who touched you.”
“You did. Don’t you remember?”
You feel him freeze, as if his mind and body are frozen as he tries to recall what happened. The two of you had been drinking when you slid into his lap.
John closes the distance, stealing a kiss that is more possession than anything else. The sensation goes straight down to your toes, and pools between your thighs.
“Come back to my office.”
“John—”
“I want to recreate last night.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“No. No. Don’t walk away from me.”
Kyle’s hand grips your wrist. He tugs, pulling you back in his direction. Kyle is right there, standing so close, head bent forward with intimacy that sinks down into your soul and shatters everything you are.
You cannot resist this man. Never.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting this way, Kyle.”
Kyle grasps the side of your face, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip. “Because someone marked you. I want to know who it is.”
Does he not know? Does Kyle not remember?
Kyle licks his lips and you follow the movement, remembering how he tasted last night.
“Tell me who it is. I just want to talk to them. Set them straight.”
You laugh and Kyle frowns.
“You’ll be talking to yourself,” you reply.
His mouth opens. Closes. Kyle’s hand drops away from your face to settle on your shoulder, fingers delicately tracing the mark on your neck.
“I did this?” he asks, almost absently.
“You did,” you affirm, heat rising to your cheeks. “Last night.”
Kyle smirks. His gaze roams upward, meeting your own. “Want me to give you a few more? Doesn’t have to be on your neck.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Oh, love. What’s this?”
You lean away but Johnny is quick. He corners you, pressing you into the wall. He’s smiling, but you can see the underlying irritation. His gaze roams all over your body.
“Need something?” you bite, knowing that if the two of you linger here too long, someone will come looking or accidently happen upon you.
It’s not like Johnny is being discreet. He has one knee between your legs, and a hand on your hip. It’s a possessively intimate embrace, and it reminds you of all the things the two of you did last night.
“Aye. I do actually.” Johnny lightly pinches the mark on your neck and you flinch.
“What the fuck?”
“Who gave you that?”
You blink. “What?”
“The fucking hickey. Tell me so I can beat their fucking face bloody.”
You roll your eyes and Johnny pinches you again.
“Stop that.”
“Tell me.”
“You’ll be fighting yourself, Johnny.”
Johnny’s demeanor completely changes, becoming a sultry thing that swirls pleasure deep in your belly. This time he doesn’t pinch. He leans in, running his tongue along the mark. When he pulls back, he grasps you tight, pressing his lips to yours, stealing all breath.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“You’re mine,” growls Simon as he picks you up and sets you on top of your desk.
You have no space to argue. Simon is already kissing you. Nipping your lips. Drawing forth a bit of blood to suck into his mouth.
“I know,” you whimper as his hand squeezes your thigh, dragging you to the edge of the desk. His hardness grinds against you, and you moan.
“If you know, then tell me why someone else has marked what’s fucking mine.” Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you back, and holding firm. Your fingers claw at the front of his shirt.
“What are you talking about?”
Simon growls. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You blink. Completely confused. “You gave this to me.”
Simon says nothing. He just stares. “Last night.” You shrug. “I mean we drank a lot but fuck. Thought you’d remember that.”
Simon gently eases his hand from your neck. “I don’t. But you know what that means, love?”
You suck on your bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood that Simon coaxed to the surface. “What?”
“Just means I need to give you a few more. As reminders. For you. And others.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23
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a-hazbin-reader · 9 months ago
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OMG CAN YOU DO A ALASTOR X MOTHER READER WHERE THEY WAS TRYING TO HAVE ALONE TIME YK MOMMY N DADDY TIME BUT THE TWINS CAME AND RUIN PUSHING ALASTOR AWAY SO HE WON'T TOUCH THEIR MOMMY
👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive?, Alastor VS His babies, Alastor and his kids being possessive
Description: 👆⬆️
When it first happens, Alastor thinks it's adorable and can't help laughing at his silly children
He had come back from an overlord meeting and was eager to kiss you, pulling you in close
"How was the meeting, darling?"
His lips are almost touching yours, practically teasing both of you by denying that final touch
"Uneventful as always, my dear~"
Just when he goes to close the distance, you're both suddenly frozen in place, feeling little hands pushing you apart
You both look down to see your twins trying to shove Alastor away from you with all their little might
Their little faces scrunched up in outrage and concern as they try to break their father's iron grip on you
"Oh my~! It seems someone doesn't like it when I take their mother's attention~"
He's laughing and picking up the twins just to squish them between you and him, kissing their squishy cheeks
"BA!"
The second time it happens, Alastor is shocked, not realizing how serious his babies were about this
They're sitting in their highchairs, being fed by you when he comes up to kiss your cheek
His arm wraps around you and he rubs his cheek on you, not paying attention to the warning growls from his spawn
Or the way their ears fold back and they start bleating at him to get off their mother
He goes to kiss you, when suddenly, there's a wet slap of food hitting his cheek
You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing, your twins already grabbing another handful of food
"Now now~ It's important to share with your pap-OH! That's not very polite..!"
It seems Alastor has finally met his match, running out of the room with his tail between his legs
The third time is when Alastor starts getting concerned, the two of you alone in bed
He just wanted some time alone with you after you two had put the twins down for the night
And you could hardly deny him with his lips kissing along your neck and strong arms pulling you against him
Eventually, his lips find yours, and the kiss turns heated with wandering hands starting to slide under each other's clothes-
When there's a cry from the baby monitor and you both are taken out of the mood, giving each other sheepish looks
"Not to worry, darling~ Watch as your capable husband puts them back to sleep~"
Alastor picks up the monitor and speaks into it softly, his voice usually enough to make the babies fall back asleep
Instead, there's the sharp sound of radio interference and an indignant shriek on the other side, making your husband's ears fold back
"I think I should probably be the one to put them back to bed..."
You give your husband a small pat on the head before kissing him, heading into the nursery for the night
The bed has never felt more lonely
Alastor never thought his own children would turn on him, betrayal truly is a devastating thing
SOMEHOW his children have gotten the idea in their heads that their mother isn't something to SHARE
He has no idea how they learned that
It looks like he'll have to do something he had hoped he would NEVER have to do
Talk about sharing his wife
With his children
But still
So he takes the children for the day, letting you have a day to yourself and kicking you out of the hotel
His twins are obviously a little miffed at him for sending you away, it wasn't a decision that Alastor made lightly
But without the object of their little obsession, then they're back to being his loving little babies
They're snuggling into him when he decides to try and explain why the three of them need to share you
"Now, your mother and I...we need time not only for ourselves but also for each other."
At first, the twins eye him with a dubious expression on their faces, little hands curling into angry fists
"And the three of us, we all love her very much, don't we?"
Then they start to relax and lean on him again, as if accepting their father's words
Things feel calmer when you come back home later that night, your husband and babies all practically glomping on you
Whatever rivalry they had going on before seems to have ended, finally being able to have some affection from your husband without being interrupted
"So...it looks like we're alone~"
"It would seem so, darling~"
He's chuckling and pulling you close, reaching back to lock the door behind him-
"Um? Alastor? There's a bunch of angry guys outside and..."
At least not by your own children
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
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giuseppe-yuki · 4 months ago
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pranks
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carlos sainz x meerkat shapeshifter!reader
w.c.: 1.5k
warnings: a few curse words?
part of my shapeshifting!reader series
summary: a prank kind of backfires on you and carlos
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picture credits from pinterest :)
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honestly, you thought your favorite mode of transportation must be riding on carlos’ broad shoulders. with such a tall vantage point, you could see farther ahead compared to if you walking on the ground. plus, you wouldn’t be trampled on by over-eager fans, you didn’t have to tire your legs out, and you’d be able to catch a whiff of the familiar smell of carlos’ cologne. 
you adjust your grip on carlos’ racing red ferrari kit, digging your paws into the soft material and curling your body around his neck. the paddock in suzuka was real pretty, with cherry blossoms framing the walkway.
carlos continues walking into the paddock, occasionally stopping to sign hats and merch. a few little fans asked to pet you too, and you gladly scurried down carlos’ arm to let them stroke your fur with sticky fingers that kids always seem to have. a child completely covered in george merch even stopped to hand-feed you a piece of fruit. 
when he arrives in his motorhome, he gently sets you down on the sofa. he collapses next to you, body sprawled on the couch. “ugh, that was exhausting.” he says exasperatedly. “there is still-” he checks his watch. “two hours until fp3?? i swear to god, my manager must have messed up the schedule.” 
he leans back into the couch, and then fishes a peanut out of the pocket of his jeans. your boyfriend always seemed to have a stache of your favorite meerkat-friendly snacks in his pocket. not that you minded- you were always down for a little snack now and then.
he flings the peanut at you, and you manage to avoid the flying nut by a centimeter. you whip your head back at him, glaring at him the most vicious way possible. 
his mouth is open, hand still frozen in the throwing position. “omg! i swear to god i did not mean to throw it that hard, mi amor.” he scoops you up and pats your tiny head. reaching into his pocket again, he takes out another peanut and hands it to you gingerly. 
you accept the peanut and crack it open, but continue to glare at him. while you munch on the peanut, carlos looks down at you with a glimmer of mischievousness in his big brown eyes. you knew that look- he only did that when he had a particularly funny prank that he wanted to pull (the last time he had that look in his eyes was when he came up with the idea to put 100 miniature rubber snakes around charles’ drivers room). 
“i’ve just had the funniest idea,” he exclaims. “since we have so much time on our hands, we should go to mclaren to annoy lando!” 
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ever since being associated with carlos, you have been dragged into so many of his pranks around the paddock that a glance at your meerkat form has people wondering if carlos was planning another mischievous trick. it was the polar opposite of your normal human form. i mean, who would suspect carlos’ nice reserved girlfriend to also be his havoc-causing meerkat sidekick?
the mclaren employees shoot you both suspicious glances as carlos strolls through the mclaren motorhome. he creeps around corners and listens through every door. you hold on to his team kit with your sharp paws for dear life- you surely would have slid off already if you hadn’t. it’s only when he comes across a sitting area with two familiar figures that he stops. 
“you’re not very adventurous with food, are you?” you hear oscar say, holding what seems to be a red-bean mochi in between his fingertips. 
“well, i don’t wanna be,” lando shoots back, pushing the japanese snack away from him.
carlos creeps behind lando, and hands you several peanuts that he fished from his pockets. taking advantage of lando and oscar’s bickering, he lets you slide off of his shoulders. you bolt full speed towards lando and start throwing the peanuts at his head while screeching. 
he yelps, jumps out of his chair, and scurries behind a nearby table to hide. oscar, spotting your tiny figure compared to lando’s cowering body next to the table, starts cackling. 
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a full hour hadn’t even passed for carlos to get that look in his eyes again. this time, you were busy piecing together a 2000 piece puzzle of ayrton senna in the mostly empty dining hall when you see him approach you.
“what now,” you say, raising an eyebrow. 
a wide grin splits your boyfriend’s face. “let’s go steal charles’ helmet!” he whispers, just in case charles or any of his team members are nearby. 
poor charles was almost always on the receiving end of carlos’ pranks (although you did hear about pierre somehow obtaining a snake and sneaking into charles’ room with it). you swear that it is going to backfire one day. 
nevertheless, you agree, leaving half of senna’s face and his car’s front wing done on the table. 
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it was a really quick process, as you shifted, scurried past the mechanics and lifted charles’ signature red helmet off of the counter in one swoop. no one batted an eye as you pushed the helmet out of the garage and into carlos’ arms. 
“yess! good job, baby!” he cheers, once the helmet is in his hand. “now where to hide it?”
he looks around, before finally walking into the gap in between the aston martin and ferrari motorhomes. you scurry after him, paws hitting the ground at full speed. at the end is a little secluded space, surrounded on all four sides by walls or other teams’ motorhomes. he snickers, and sets charles’ helmet on the ground. pulling out his phone, he snaps a picture, ready to send to charles as a taunt. 
you proceed to turn, brushing strands of meerkat fur off of your flowy shortskirt. “not even a thank you, carlos?” you say, tilting your head. “i risked my life out there stealing his helmet!” 
before he can answer, you hear the clonk of a waterbottle dropping near the ferrari motorhome. standing there, mouth open in shock, stands charles leclerc, the owner of the helmet that you stole. “did you just-” he starts.
carlos, realizing your secret might get out through charles, marches through the gap, snatches the familiar white celcius water bottle from the ground, and yanks charles into the secluded space. 
you stand very still next to the helmet, not knowing if you wanted to bolt and hide in a hole so you’d never be seen again, or to slap carlos for exposing your secret, to his teammate, no less. you knew that carlos’ tricks would backfire one day.
“mate, please, please, please do not tell anyone about this!” carlos says, clutching charles’ shirt. 
once the initial shock has worn off, charles shocked expression turns into a smirk. “of course i’ll tell people about this! you literally stole my helmet and you expect me not to expose you for taking my things? besides, it’s a payback for pranking me so much! i still find those stupid rubber snakes that you hid in my room everywhere. i always have to call my girlfriend to help me get rid of them.” 
you step up next to carlos and charles, a confused expression on your face. “wait. so you didn’t see me turn?”
a look of understanding flashes across charles’ face. “ohhh!!” he remarks. “you mean the meerkat thing?”
“yes!” you and carlos both say simultaneously. 
“don’t worry, i won’t tell!” charles says, to both of your guy’s relief. “don’t you know, my girlfriend can shift into a hedgehog? no offense, i think that’s way cooler than a meerkat,” he states with a smug smile on his face.
“oi, pendejo!” carlos says, narrowing his eyes. “how dare you say that!”
you laugh, putting an hand on carlos’ shoulder. “it’s okay baby, i’m just glad this didn’t turn out into a bad situation!” 
charles shoots you an appreciative grin, knowing you saved him from potential physical altercation with carlos. it quickly dissipates, however, when he sees his helmet behind your legs.
“right, back to the helmet, how dare you steal it! fred would’ve killed me if i showed up to fp3 without it!” 
understanding the power charles has now knowing your secret, carlos apologizes. “we are sorry, charles. i promise i won’t ever steal any of your things again!” 
charles continues to stand there, waiting for him to continue.
“-and i won’t play any more pranks on you, i swear!” he says quickly. 
charles nods once, satisfied with carlos’ promise.
from side facing the motorhomes, fernando sticks his head into the gap separating the two teams. spotting you three standing there, he jokes, “you guys having a party in there, or what?” 
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t-minus 20 minutes until fp3, charles sets his water bottle on the counter and pulls on his balaclava. across the motorhome, carlos is doing this same. when charles finishes adjusting the material over his head and nose, he suddenly sees a flash of fur on the counter. it’s you, bolting away like your life is on the line with his water bottle in hand. 
“CARLOS!” you hear him shout.
from your hiding spot in one of the engineer’s headphone cubbies, you see carlos scramble over to charles. 
“what? is everything alright?” carlos says, concerned. 
“your girlfriend just stole my waterbottle!” he whispers heatedly, pointing at you sitting innocently in the cubby like everything was normal, except for the fact that a white racing waterbottle, complete with a long straw and a “charles leclerc” sticker is sitting next to you. carlos laughs, “i mean- i did only promise that i won’t steal anything or pull any pranks on you; i didn't promise my girlfriend wouldn't!”
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taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks @madkohi
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434 notes · View notes
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Can you write Jasper Hale x Fem!Reader for overstimulation, like him using his powers to heighten her pleasure
Can do
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528 words
Smut, overstimulation, powers, brat
Jasper watched as y/n woke up next to him, her h/c hair tangled in her face.
“Good morning love” he senses her joy and carefully moves her hair out of her face.
She smiles, her big e/c eyes warming his frozen cold heart. “good morning jasper”
“how are you feeling my love?” That makes her giggle
“You already know how I feel silly”
“Yes, but I’d like to hear you say it.”
She smiles again love for him showing on her face
“I’m happy, and in love”
He feigns innocence
“Now who’s got you’re heart all in a knot?” He smiles
She hums
“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man, he is so sweet. And handsome, and I swear he can tell how I feel” she kisses his neck softly “And did I mention how hot he is?”
He gasps at her boldness
“Love, you’re emotions are so strong,”
She continues to kiss him only stopping to say “and? What am I feeling?”
“Pleasure, and love” He grabs her hands before she realizes “I don’t think you understand what you’re starting y/n” he says sternly
“Please do tell,” she says sarcastically.
“Don’t be a bad girl, or I’ll have to punish you. You know how I do hate punishing you,”
she doesn’t stop
“And what will you do to punish me? Spanking is getting quite tiring.” She smirks
“You’ll see,” Jasper pulls off her underwear with his teeth. She gasps feeling his cold tongue go inside her. He uses his teeth to lightly pull on her clit.
“Fuck jasper,” she moans knowing he’s heightening her feelings with his power
“You like this my dear?”
“You’re gonna make me cum,” the pleasure takes her body over and she grabs his head pushing it deeper into her.
He moves his tongue faster inside of her till she cums on him. He slowly gets up reaching for a vibrator on the nightstand.
“Oh no,” she gasps, she had always heard of people being overstimulated by there partners, but she never thought she’d see the day when jasper was gonna do it
“Are pigs flying?” She laughs nervously.
“Hm?” He asks
“Never mind”
“Alright”
she hears the vibrator be turned on, she watches as jasper licks it to make it wet.
“You sure I can’t just pleasure you jasper?”
“You were a bad girl, this is you’re punishment, my love”
“Oh fuck me,” she moans out as she feels the vibrator enter her.
“In due time, y/n.”
Y/ns moans echo throughout the room, sounding like a sweet melody in jaspers ears.
After 20 minutes jasper had made her cum 5 times
“Jasper please no more,” she gasps for breath “or at least stop heightening my fe-“ she moans loudly coming a sixth time
“Cum for me one more time, my love”
the vibrations go up and y/n opens her legs farther. She moves jasper’s fingers to her clit. A couple seconds later she cums again. The vibrations stop finally letting her breathe.
“Omg Jasper, that felt so good,”
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nerdy-novelist017 · 5 months ago
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Omg yay!! Ok obviously feel free to decline this since the subject matter could be rough for some people but, canon Benny’s reaction to what happened to Kathy was definitely my least fav part of the film and I need it to be rectified through fic🙏🏽. So could you write something about the aftermath of something like that happening to reader when her and Benny have been dating for a while? Im starved for caring and protective Benny unfortunately
Starve no more, anon ;) I have more protective Benny fics in the works! I made this one as a one shot to my Benny x Bunny series, hope that's okay! (This ISN'T the next part to Little Bunny! It's just a little one shot for after they're together ;) I'm working on getting the next part posted tonight!)
Word Count- 1.1k
Summary- Benny couldn't possibly want you after what almost happened, right?
TW- SA, 18+
*Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with the content!
Life Raft (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
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Benny was going to be so upset with you.
Your hands shook from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You blinked and the tears burning your eyes threatened to spill over. Kathy’s hand rubbed the spot between your shoulder blades soothingly as she sat on the edge of the bed with you. Downstairs, you could hear the party wrapping up, Johnny and Funny Sonny trying to get everybody to leave. The party was over, too many bad things had happened for everyone to just pretend they didn’t see it, pretend they didn’t hear it.
You swallowed roughly, the events of the last hour still looping in your mind. The way his cold eyes raked over your body, the way he smiled sinisterly as you backed away. The course palm of his hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you against the wall. His hot breath fanning across your mouth as his tongue invaded. His other hand going up your skirt, grazing the line of your panties. 
You squeezed your eyes shut at that part. You had screamed, but Benny wasn’t there. Kathy wasn’t there. Zipco wasn’t there. Brucie wasn’t there. You were alone with this man, prey to this predator. And who even was this man? You hadn’t seen him before, even though he wore the colors you had been so used to seeing almost every day. More chapters were popping up everywhere and with it, came new faces to the parties, meetings and picnics. Strangers, dangerously prowling through the club now, waiting for opportunities of solitude to attack.
You had only left the bonfire for a moment, telling Benny that you were going inside to grab a soda from the fridge. They only ever had beer coolers outside by the fire. You would only be gone for a moment. But a moment was all this animal needed as he stalked into the kitchen after you.
You were alone and that realization sent ice through your veins. This animal could do whatever he wanted, and you were powerless to stop it.
And then suddenly Johnny was there, grabbing this man and throwing him away from you. You were stuck against the wall, frozen in fear as you watched Wahoo and Corky jump into the fight as well. The two dragged the man out of the room, heading for the back door.
“Hey, kid, you okay?” Johnny asked, trying to make eye contact with your frantic gaze. He reached out slowly and pulled the hem of your dress back down to cover your trembling legs. “C’mon, let Kathy get you upstairs.”
You hadn’t even realized Kathy was there too now. She wrapped her arms around you, guiding you to the stairs. 
“B—Benny?” You tried to ask and Johnny nodded. 
“I’ll get him for ya,” he said, eyes empathetic.
That seemed to be hours ago. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. You weren’t sure; everything felt a little hazy. However long it was, Kathy never left your side, having planted herself next to you. You tried to say something to her, to thank her, but your throat was too dry and your mind too incoherent. You felt dirty and scared and you just wanted to go home. 
Benny was going to be so upset with you. 
Footsteps climbed the stairs and you stiffened at the sound. Benny appeared in the doorway and you wanted to sob. The man you wanted to run to, the man you wanted to hold you tight and carry you back to safety stood there, a dark expression on his face. With one look at Kathy, he dismissed her. She squeezed your arm gently. 
“I’ll be right downstairs if ya need me,” she promised softly and then she was gone. Benny closed the door behind her and a heavy silence filled the bedroom.
Your heart raced as he moved to stand at the dresser across from you. You could see the tension radiating from him and you swallowed back any kind of hope for him to love you still. 
“What happened?” he asked finally, his voice wavering with barely-controlled anger.
“I-I just wanted a pop. I just came in-inside and he—he . . . I couldn’t—couldn’t get away—” The words tumbled out of your mouth incoherently. 
“Which one?” 
You looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. “I—I don’t . . . Did Johnny not—”
“Johnny didn’t tell me who. Just told me . . .” His words died as he looked at the purple marks forming on your neck. His jaw clenched hard and he looked away from you. Your heart sunk at the action. He couldn’t even look at you anymore. He was so disgusted that he couldn’t even look at you. You could feel him slipping through your fingers and total desperation hit you like a wave. The ocean, you thought, that's what it felt like. You were lost in the middle of the ocean and a storm broke a nasty hole in your tiny ship. You were sinking, drowning in that vast, dark water.
The tears broke free from their dam and rolled down your cheeks as a sob caught in your throat. “I’m—I’m so sorry, B—Benny. Please forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” He looked back at you but you couldn’t face his hard gaze. 
Looking down at your lap, you cried. “Please don’t be upset with m—me. I’m sorry.”
He crossed the distance between you, lowering himself to his knees before you. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid his gaze, heart shattering in your chest.
His warm hands enveloped yours tightly. “Bunny.”
Please don’t leave me here to pick myself up, you wanted to say. Please don’t abandon me to this darkness, I'm already drowning. I'm still me. I'm still your girl.
“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was so soft, just barely above a whisper. 
You obeyed his gentle command. His face was inches below yours, eyes examining. Slowly, he lifted his hand and his fingertips ghosted over the bruises forming on your throat. His brows pinched together but his eyes were soft as they returned to yours. His fingers traveled over the curve of your jaw and up to swipe the heavy flow of tears from beneath your eyes.
“I could never be upset with you, Bunny," he whispered. “I could never.” 
Your hands came up to grip his wrists as if he were a life raft holding you afloat. His hands, you realized, were shaking slightly and you held even tighter, anchoring him to you. 
“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. Angry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” His voice wavered, tears rimming his beautiful blue eyes. “I promised to always protect you and I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry, Bunny. I’m so, so sorry.”
Words failed you, but you never needed them for Benny. You threw your arms around his neck, burying yourself into his chest. He reacted immediately, pulling you impossibly close as he moved to sit on the bed beside you. You cried, and he let you.
And when Johnny came to check on you, that’s how he found you: curled into your Benny's chest, his arms a protective shield from the rest of the world as he whispered into your ear, hands running gently through your hair. And Johnny knew that you’d be okay, because you had Benny. And Benny would be okay because Johnny and his boys had already taken care of the ex-Vandal who dared to lay a hand on their little bunny.
*Tag List *
@Imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer
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bi-writes · 9 months ago
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I LOVED how you wrote ghost and badass!reader omg 🫶 If you’re comfortable, would you be open to writing protective boyfriend ghost at the pub? Some oblivious guy is creepy when ghost goes to get drinks. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when ghost returns.
ill take any opportunity to write about my favorite lieutenant spilling blood for love (18+)
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he has been gone for too long. your glass is empty, and the crowd is filling the room, and it's loud. you lose him, even the size of him is swallowed by how many people are moving around, and you sigh as you lean your head into your hands and wait for him.
you know he must hate this. the people. the noise. it's hot, too, and you know he'll complain a little about the stickiness of his mask when you get home.
you gasp when there's a splash of something against your back. you cry out in anger, and when you turn, there's two men cackling as they come into your space.
"ohhhh!" the lankier one giggles drunkenly, and his eyes make you uneasy. his hair is curling from the sweat along his brow, and the dark pieces of it fall in front of his face, drawing low shadows over him. he's the one holding the drink that just spilled down your back. "s-sorry, luv--" he hiccups, and you glare.
"fuck off," you snap, and it's then that you realize you've made a mistake. something ugly flashes across his face, and his friend notices, a bleach-blonde with an uneven haircut, and he whistles a little.
"oh, fuck, mate--she wants a fight."
you scoff, shaking your head. "if you aren't gonna apologize for spilling that shit on me, the least you can do is get the fuck out of here."
"oi, you got a fuckin' mouth on ya, lovie," the dark-haired one growls. you sit up a little straighter, brushing off some liquid that's spilled onto the table. they're cornering you, you realize, when the blonde one takes a seat across from you and the other traps you in the booth by sitting next to you.
"i'm not going to ask you again," you say firmly. "get your ass off this seat and move along."
"you're one of those, aren't you?" the one next to you gets uncomfortably close. "one of those feminists? that thinks men are useless, and that you're meant for something more than the fuckin' kitchen?"
you frown, your mouth opening slightly, and you shake your head, "excuse me?"
"you lot," he comes closer. "think you're hot shit. but y'r all fuckin' slags. only thing you're good for is opening y'r fuckin' legs."
you jump visibly when he grabs your thigh roughly, and you're about to react when a gloved hand finds the back of his head and slams it down against the wood of the desk.
you squeak when he cries out in pain, his nose pointing at unnatural angles, and blood splatters the table and the denim of your jeans. you lean back, but then those gloved hands grab the back of his shirt and yank him out of the booth, tossing him onto the floor. he skids across it, wet with spilled drinks, and he doubles over, coughing, cradling his face as he sobs.
you swallow hard when ghost finally turns his head back to the table. his chest is heaving, and he squeezes his hands in and out of fists when his eyes land on the helpless blonde that still somehow sits across from you.
"no--" he holds his hands up. "n-no, w-we were just--"
"just what?" ghost snarls, tilting his head to the side as he looks at him. you suck in a shaky breath, frozen in your seat, and you almost feel bad for the poor thing. but then you replay the words, the way they looked at you, how one of them put a hand on you. you relax a little, blinking, and you realize it must be acceptance.
you take a dog with you when you go out. it's not your fault people don't realize their bite hurts.
ghost takes a step towards him, boots heavy, and he runs. he bolts, running away, out the back door, and he leaves his friend to cradle his bloody face against his shaking hands all by himself. the crowd was quiet for a moment, but the mood softens when ghost turns away, letting out a low breath. people realize the show is over, and they shuffle back in place.
there is blood on the back of your hand. before you can touch it, a gloved hand reaches out and smooths his own over you, wiping it away. you sniffle, looking down, and he comes closer to crowd your space. you feel only warmth with him there, and your lip trembles a little.
"s-sorry, i--"
"wot are you apologizing for?" simon mutters. "apologizin' for those fuckin' twats, luv? don't want t'hear it."
he grunts, shaking his head, and he tugs on your arms, bringing you closer.
"c'mere," he tilts your head up, putting a few fingers on your chin and staring down at you. he narrows his dark eyes, and you smile, just a little, sadly. "was almost too late." he looks behind him, and you see a few feet away, there's two drinks spilled on the floor, glass shattered where he dropped them. "saw him put his fuckin' hands on you, 'n--"
you put a hand on his forearm, digging your nails in there gently. you shake your head.
"it's okay. doesn't matter." you laugh a little. "kinda hot."
you notice him raise a brow, and he tilts his head to the side, and he hums.
"oh, that right, luv?" he leans in, closer, and when he touches your hands, blood comes off on your hands. you smooth your hands against his own, gripping them firmly, and you look up at him as you smile knowingly.
simon would do unspeakable things for you. and that idiot was lucky to go home with his hands still attached. it should scare you that you know this, that you know this is a fact. it's dark, it's cruel, but it's yours, and you like the way it tastes in your mouth.
you like the way revenge feels against your tongue, the sound that love feels between your teeth. this love is fucked and raw, and it will tear you apart, but you can't wait for it, to feel it, the thin line between pain and pleasure. simon pushes the boundary between good and bad, and for once, the blood feels warm, and he paints you with it, and it's fucking poetic the way you look at him now.
pretty eyes, big eyes, eyes that tell him she's going to fuck you when she takes you home.
"yeah, big man," you murmur, and you feel something hot go through you when his eyes drop to your lips for just a second. just enough time for you to know he's losing his resolve. one thought about getting his hands on you, and he falls, and it's pathetic, but he's so fucking hard, he doesn't care. "it's hot."
and when he forces you to look in the mirror later, when it's dark and it's just the two of you, you realize there is blood on your face, and his hands are dirty with filth.
but when he goes to take the gloves off, you don't let him.
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starhvney · 8 months ago
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𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance
𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual content and kinks, but nothing extreme or disturbing
𝐀/𝐍: woah omg guys who wrote this?! it wasn't me i swear!! (it was me) i’ll probably make a part two with the other men i didn’t include in this one but um… yeah someone needs to restrain me i’m biting my keyboard
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.
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𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄 | biting/scratching, restraining, predator/prey
☆ you had discovered that he got off on chasing and catching you one day when you had jokingly teased him and ran away, giggling as you went to hide from him. he had frozen just a second, giving you a headstart before he quickly went after you.
it’s really unfair, a human running away from a werewolf literally twice her size in height and muscle. you let out a surprised shriek when familiar, thick, tan arms wrap around you.
it felt like he was nearly about to tackle you, but you’re instead whisked off of your feet and pressed into the nearest surface—the wall. you tilted your head back to look at him, eye’s widening when you catch his gaze.
he huffs, hunched over you and pupils blown wide in lust. you’re shocked you riled him up so easily, and you’re just about to open your mouth to tease him again when he pins his hips into your behind. he grinds his hardened bulge into your ass, cutting off any of your previous thoughts and turning them into mush.
“got you.”
☆ you’re just so cute when you look up at him like that, eyes wide like a bunny trapped in a wolf’s claws. it’s instinctual, really, so can you blame him for how turned on he gets? the thrill of the chase and claiming his catch is in his blood.
so it’s no wonder that he claims you there and then, not bothering to move to the bedroom and instead humping into you from behind.
“so tight.” he groans, his voice nearly sounding like a growl. “feels s’good every time.”
he bites down on your shoulder, groaning and fighting off every urge to immediately go hard and rough. he still knows you’re smaller, and it shows in the way you whine when your pussy stretches and flutters around him, struggling to take him in.
☆ when you finally do adjust, rip to any kind of movement or function below your waist for the rest of the night. you will be numb and sore for days.
one of his hands easily has your wrists pinned together, pressing your arms against your chest while he uses his other arm to guide your hips. it’s incredibly easy for him to do, lifting you up before bouncing you back down on his cock at a ruthless pace.
you’re not sure what to do with yourself, head drooping and legs twitching and flailing while he has you completely restrained by your torso. he was hitting so deep, you’re sure you can feel it in your throat with every thrust.
his nails dig into your sides, not breaking the skin but still leaving irritated scratches along the surface while his mouth continues to hotly lick and bite into the skin at the juncture of your neck.
☆ it’s not until a mix of your cum is dripping out of you, trailing down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you that he finally calms down, whispering apologies in your ear while leaving sloppy kisses on your jaw.
“sorry, babe,” he pants, heart thrumming in his chest against your back. “i don’t know what came over me.”
he once again picks you up, carrying you bridal style in his arms as he kisses every scratch and bite mark he left behind before cleaning you up and snugly tucking you under him in bed.
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𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇 | size kink, manhandling, breeding, praise
☆ he is tall and he is stupidly strong. he would never ever use his strength to hurt you, but he still loves how much smaller than him you are. he thinks it’s adorable, how easily he can throw you over his shoulder, or how he can flip or bend you whichever way he wants.
you had let out a startled squeak when garroth had scooped you up as soon as you entered your home, wasting no time before the front door had even shut.
he had carried you with ease to your bedroom, tossing you onto the mattress without even slightly gasping or struggling for breath. when his long, thick fingers met your folds to prepare you, he was surprised to find you were already soaked in your slick.
“does me throwing you around like that really make you this wet, baby?” he smirked, slapping his erect cock onto your stomach, admiring how the tip nearly reached your navel.
☆ he knows he has to be careful, with his unnatural strength. but it’s so hard, especially with how your cunt greedily sucks him in, fluttering as you struggled to adjust to his size.
“fuck,” he hisses, his fingers roughly gripping the sheets by your head. “relax, sweetheart. or it’ll never fit.”
“ ‘m trying!” you whine, never getting used to the stretch even after all of the times you’ve gone through this process before.
☆ as soon as you finally do adjust and he bottoms out, you find yourself practically folded in half as he pounds into you, his hips slamming against your thighs.
his eyes focus on your lower abdomen, fascinated at the bulge that appears every time he slides himself back into your walls. his hand is large and warm, something that overwhelmed you as he pressed down against your stomach.
your legs shake and spasm against his hands as your eyes roll and your head lulls back. a sign, garroth has learned, that showed you were close to tipping over the edge.
“are you gonna cum, baby? yeah?” he pants in your ear, his pace stuttering. “go on. do it for me, i know you can. mhmm, good girl.”
as you tighten and flutter around him he lets out a broken moan himself.
“you gonna let me cum inside? you’d look so cute pregnant. you gonna let me fill you up? make you a mommy?”
☆ he buries his face into your shoulder when he reaches his peak, strong hands holding you in place as his hips jerk and press into you. his grip would probably leave bruises, ones that he’d individually kiss and apologize for when you were done.
a deep, husky groan vibrates against your throat as he stills, and his hot release shoots up, coating your insides white. you’re still catching your breath when he places sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, lowering your legs and massaging your hips.
“you did so good for me, sweetheart.”
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𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 | degradation/teasing, spanking, dacryphilia, dumbification
☆ you really should know better than to try and tease and be bratty to him, because it always ends the same. though, you did know better, because he always reacted exactly how you wanted.
you whine into the sheets your face was shoved in, your grip white-knuckled against his pants as you were splayed across his lap. your back arched against his long hand that held you in place, while his other one cracked down against your reddened ass once again.
your hips jerk against the leg you were bent over as you muffle your moans.
“where’d your claws go, kitty?” gene questions, gently soothing the irritated skin with his lithe fingers before delivering another harsh slap. “you were talking all tough earlier, weren’t you?”
☆ he lifts you up, keeping your head face first in the bed while he raises your ass up in the air, pushing himself into you. he gives you just enough time to adjust before he’s started a merciless rhythm, your moans and cries stuttered and jolted every time he slams into you.
“poor thing…” he turns your face to the side, kissing the tears of pleasure from your cheeks and licking his lips with a grin. “just keep taking it. can you at least do that? hm?”
you nod, gasping and eyes rolling as the thick vein running along his shaft continues to hit that one mind-shattering spot inside without fail. you’re not sure how many times you’ve came now, but the soaked sheets and sticky feeling against your thighs was enough of an indication.
“good doll,” his thumb from the hand that firmly held you down between your shoulder blades rubbed soothing circles on your skin—a sharp contrast to his rough and unwavering pace.
“yeah, you’re too sweet to be tough, aren’t you?” he tilts his head, laughing at how your attempt to tease and one-up him once again ended with you drooling underneath him. “sweet thing.”
☆ he’s the type to mock your moans as he has you bent over and nearly unconscious, his deep voice pitching higher as he whines and gasps in your ear.
“ah~! mmn~! aah~!” he whines, a raspy laugh leaving his lips when he realizes you’re too fucked out to even respond.
“aww, can’t take it anymore? you should’ve thought of that before you started talking like you were all tough, huh?” he juts his lip out, giving you a look of fake pity as he continues to show no mercy in his pace.
☆ it’s not until he knows you really are at your limit that he finally slows down, brushing your hair back and kissing you as he rolls you over to lay on top of him.
“are you okay, lovely?” he whispers, holding your droopy head between his hands.
you sleepily nod, relieving his tense worry that he had been too rough on you. he wraps his arms around you and mutters for you to hold on as he carries you to the bathroom, whispering praises in your ear and peppering sweaty kisses against you.
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𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | marking, overstimulation, orgasm control, begging
☆ you’d lost track of how long you’d been in bed, something that was a common recurring theme anytime laurance dragged you under the sheets with him. 
his hips leisurely roll down into yours as a lazy and overconfident smirk stayed cockily plastered on his face. he ducked his head  down into your neck, kissing casually on the exposed skin as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you right now.
“laurance,” you whine in frustration, hips twitching and bucking up into his. “please.”
he bucks deeper into you, pinning your hips into the bed and preventing you from squirming any further. he tilts his head and hums innocently, lips brushing along your jaw and hovering over your lips.
“please what, my love?”
“move,” you demand, cheeks red and chest heaving.
he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing to slowly grind into you as his lips trail away from yours, moving to nibble on your earlobe.
“well that’s no way to ask for something…” he purrs, voice vibrating against your ears.
“please, go faster, harder, something!” you grit, nails digging into his shoulders as he suddenly draws back and snaps back into you.
“good girl. keep begging for me like that and i might give you more.”
☆ the teasing fuck doesn’t actually keep to his promise until you’re a babbling mess from his slow movements, spasming on his dick while he’s barely gotten started. when you finally really beg for him, you almost regret asking for it. almost. 
“oh, fu-ah!” you cry out, hands reaching down to push on his waist in a futile attempt to slow him down. “slow down, laur—ance!”
laurance barely raises his head from where he has just been sucking on your chest, lovely red and purple marks forming on the sensitive skin. his eyes droop in satisfaction as he stares down at you, admiring your mussed hair and bleary expression.
despite your overstimulation, he continues the same unrelenting tempo, his length battering your insides as he smiles down at you.
“oh, but how could i after you asked me so nicely to speed up?” he asks, relishing in how you spasm around him as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.
your eyes scrunch as you arch up into him, gasping and frantically steadying yourself by digging your fingers into his toned back. you see white as you gush and squirt around him, jaw dropping as you try to catch your breath.
you think you’re in the clear as his hips still against you, giving you a moment of reprieve to recover. as soon you open your eyes they blow wide open, a startled moan leaving your lips as he pulls out to the head and hastily snaps himself back in.
“c’mon, just one more for me? you can do one more.”
☆ “just one more” is never the case with laurance. it’s not until he himself has wasted his own energy that he finally collapses, leaving you both spent and satisfied against the sheets. 
he relishes in the afterglow, giving you sloppy kisses as if he hadn’t been doing that for the past couple of hours anyways. after his legs return their strength he carries you to the bathroom, knowing he once again left you sore and used.
he’s used to the scandalized gasp and harsh slap he earns on his chest when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 
☆ he always leaves you with hickeys spanning from your neck down to your breasts. sometimes you’ll find them on your lower stomach and thighs… if he spends a little extra time on you that day. 
“laurance zvahl! how am i supposed to hide this?”
“by wearing my sweater again…” he giggles, rubbing his hands along your waistline.
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.
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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months ago
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Hello!! I literally finished Ted Lasso and am IN LOVE with Jamie Tartt (this may or may not have to do with the amount of fics I’ve read recently). Would you be up for writing a Jamie x reader where they’ve been secretly dating for a while and the team finds out, perhaps with a reader that works for AFC Richmond as like they’re photographer or something?
Omg babe I need more Jamie fics in my life. Jamie Tartt x fem!reader
cw: swearing, hickey, jamie tartt being a smug asshole
776 words
You can't stop subconsciously rubbing your neck, likely from the anxiety of wondering if your makeup is doing an adequate job covering the smattering of love-bites on your neck. When your fingers came away with a chalky coating of powder, you kept your hand frozen by your side, your free hand jotting down notes as your boss kept rambling, careful to filter the necessary information from the side tangents. 
“You get all that, babe?” Keely looked up from her computer, half apologetic. “I’m so sorry my brain has been all over the place lately.” 
“You’re okay Miss.” You looked up, eyes catching on the man winking at you from across the room. He was looking nearly sinful with a towel slung over his bulky shoulder, skin gleaming with sweat. You stiffened, handing the clipboard to your boss. “Does this all look right?” 
She mumbled as her eyes scanned the page. “Perfect! Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm serious when I say I would be a complete shitstorm without you.” She glanced at the clock. “Oh, bugger! It’s gone 1. Why don’t you take your lunch, I’ll figure the rest of this mess out.” Her perfectly manicured hand shooed you from the office. 
“Thank you Miss.” You contained your smile, glancing at Jamie. He was still looking at you, brown eyes burning into your form. You scampered off, closing the door to Keely’s office on the way out. 
The hallway was oddly barren of players and staff, excepting the boy leant casually against the doorframe of the gym bearing lazy smile on his face. You walked up to him timidly, looking around the room to make sure there were no suspicious eyes. 
“Hey cutie.” He said, running a hand through his blonde hair. Your legs felt like jelly, only made worse from the pinching heels on your feet.
“Hey Jamie. Are you okay? Why aren’t you in practice??” You looked over him for injuries, expecting to find some blooming bruise or irritated scratches. He smiled at you. You could tell he wanted to reach for you but didn’t want to risk the exposure. 
You were the main reason the relationship between you two was a secret. Jamie would shout it from the rooftop if he could, but you were still unsure. You weren’t ashamed by any means, but you couldn’t help but feel pressure. You were dating one of the most well-known Richmond players. (one who was also on a dating show made entirely up of very attractive people). Nevertheless, Jamie treated you like a rare diamond. 
“You can stop checking me out, babe. I’m alright. Coach is just havin’ us run laps. I finished first.” He was sickly sweet, if not a little boastful, looking you up and down, smirking like a cat who got the cream. “How long do you have on your break?” 
“Just under an hour.” You subconsciously glanced at a watch that wasn’t there. His grin grew as he pulled you towards the locker room. “Jamie, what if someone walks in?” Even as you protested you couldn’t help your own smile from spreading over your face. 
“Trust me, love. The lads are slackin' today. The only one who is going to finish in the next hour is Dani, and that chipper prick will stay and chat the Coaches to death.” 
You sighed, letting James tug you into his arms. He smelled like grass, rain, sweat, and himself. It was intoxicating. “I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest. 
“Missed you too, lovely girl.” He chucked, pulling you up for a kiss. No sooner did he deepen it than you heard a crash behind you. You tried to jump away from Jamie but he held onto you. You turned around to find a sheepish-looking Sam slowly backing away from the door. 
“I- I am so sorry.” Sam looked like he was trying to shrink down to bug-size. “I’ll just, I don’t want to interrupt.” 
“You’re ok-” 
“God, Sam, mind your fuckin' business.” Jamie faux-scolded. Sam slightly smiled. 
“I am.” He put his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with-” 
Right when he said that, a crowd of about ten players scrambled into the locker room, all pausing when they took in the spectacle in front of them. You could see them looking between Sam, you, and Jamie who still had his arm wrapped around your waist. The room was dead silent, until someone spoke up from the back of the group.
“Well now we know why Y/N comes to practice so much.” 
“Shut the fuck up Jan Maas!” Upwards of five people shouted.
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enviedear · 1 year ago
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omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die
protective!billy bonney...
babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.
tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)
request
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it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.
it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.
it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.
you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.
"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.
you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.
the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"
his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.
the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.
the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."
your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.
"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.
the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.
"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"
you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.
"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.
the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."
you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."
the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."
but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.
the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.
you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.
"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."
the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.
you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.
"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.
you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.
together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.
—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !
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letstalkaboutshtufff · 8 months ago
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Imagine being a new first year who’s super anxious and cute
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You watched from behind a street sign, legs shaking and tears already forming. How were you supposed to introduce yourself when you were this nervous!?!
The tallest one which you assumed was your teacher stood arms crossed and casually leaning on a pole while the three students in uniform were eagerly looking around. Well two of them were, the dark haired boy looked bored actually.
“Geez I hate it when people are late, so annoying” the girl complained.
Ah crap, you’re already making bad impressions and you haven’t even met them!!
Ok ok come one, don’t be scared. You’re here for a reason. Ok deep breath.
With shaky steps you finally emerged, crossed the street and waved shyly towards the group.
You finally caught their attention and they all turned towards you.
“H-hi, s-sorry I’m late! My names y/n l/n! It’s n-nice to m-meet e-everyone!” You bowed deeply, cheeks on fire.
Meanwhile Yuji and Nobara froze.
Oh crap did you say something weird?
Hesitantly you raised your head.
“Omg she’s like a pudding cup!!”
“She is she is!”
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“Um..” You blushed even harder and hid a little under your scarf.
“Just ignore them, they’re always like this… names Megumi Fushiguro”
“Ah, nice to meet you…”
“And I’m your teacher, satoru gojo! Welcome to Jujutsu high!”
You relaxed a bit at his welcoming demeanor.
“Thank you, I look forward to working with everyone.”
“Ahhh too cute too cute!!!” The girl started hugging you.
“Ah p-please stop!”
“Sorry but I just can’t help it! Wait… your the new first year??”
You were nervous all over again, “um y-yes” ugh were they already disappointed?
“But you’re….” Too sweet looking to hurt a fly let alone a curse… is what they wanted to say.
“I wouldn’t underestimate her just quite yet” Gojo smirked.
“She is a special grade sorcerer after all…”
“What!?!?”
“No way!?!?”
“Seriously…”
“I-I’m really not a-all that g-great” you were practically a tomato now.
“Prove it!” The girl pointed a finger at you.
“Huh?”
“Prove it! Show us what you can do.”
“U-Um, but we’re in public…”
“Oh leave that to me” suddenly your world shifted and you were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere dark and filled with negative energy, within a millisecond you sensed a curse above you.
The three others gasped and were getting into position to do something when your instinct already kicked in. You reached up and let out a large crackling blast of energy that enveloped the curse completely while also disintegrating it.
You mentally scanned for any other curses in the area and snapped your neck to the side zeroing in on a bush and then up in a tree. You lifted your finger like a gun and shot two tinier blasts but with extreme precision. You heard a shriek and muffled groan then felt the presences disappear.
Another scan confirmed that all the curses were taken care of.
Wait… did you just-
“Ah crap I did it again!!! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to show off or anything I just felt the curses and got carried away!!” You were bowing and apologizing profusely to the group that was frozen in awe. Gojo just smirked with his arms crossed.
“Well class, still think she can’t handle it?”
“No fair! I wanna have a finger gun!”
“What about that spirit bomb thing you just did, you gotta teach me that!!”
“Guys calm down…”
“U-um um um!!” Ahhhhhh too much attention!!!
You bolted in the other direction.
“H-hey come back!”
“Sorry we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!”
“See what you idiots did” megumi frowned.
“Don’t worry she’ll be back” Gojo smiled in amusement. This school year was sure going to be interesting…
-what everyone saw-
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Hope you enjoyed!
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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago
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Omg! Panty stealer pt2 is sooooo gooood! Cocky and dom Peter absolutely blew my mind! Your writing is awesome!
Pleeeeease tell me that it will be third part to fulfill the panty trilogy! As humble suggestion maybe reader find out that Pete is SpiderMan and he will finally get head from her while he is in his spidey costume? Or maybe more than just blowjob?Hehehe Am I very bad and naughty that I'm typing this to you? 🥵🤤
Anyways love ya darling! You're smashing it!
in the suit
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words: 3k
warnings: smut; (m- receiving [oral], dirty talk), language, and fluff of course. barely edited.
note: panty!peter blurb #1 coming up :D also, this is the way i believe y/n would have found out about spider-man, but i have another request for the same thing so i’ll probably do an alternative version!
you couldn’t stop thinking about it. how?
how does peter manage to get into your room every night? okay, not every night, but most nights.
most nights, peter magically and mysteriously sneaks his way up into your forbidden bedroom with ease. sometimes, you even wait and watch outside your window to try to get a peak at what he’s doing. but you never see him.
he’s just so slick. how does he do it?
you and peter have been together for over a month now, if you’re counting the day he broke in. the feeling isn’t necessarily new in your heart. you feel like you’ve known him your whole life. like he’s always just… been there.
through this month of stability yet craziness, you haven’t gone back to the frat house since the halloween party. you thought that after you guys got together you would stay there more often, but peter doesn’t want you to be ‘attacked’ by the guys. meaning, he doesn’t want them to ask a million questions when you guys are supposed to be private. you thought his excuse was dumb, but he was also just being a bit protective.
in reality, peter just didn’t know how to get you into the frat house without anyone seeing you. you both had agreed that your relationship was going to be kept private, very private. people could spread rumors and assume you two were together, but you weren’t going to show each other off. you guys liked it this way, it made your relationship more special because it was just for you two.
peter had a sixth sense, sticky fingers, and webs. it was pretty easy for him to crawl up into your room especially because you didn’t have security cameras (maybe you guys should get some at some point though…). you would constantly ask him how he does it since you live on the second floor and it was high up. but peter responds by not responding and instead laughs and kisses you. god, he was too good at distracting you.
but tonight, you were determined to find out.
peter had already texted you earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to stop by tonight because of overbearing homework. you completely understood, and sent him a good luck and goodnight to me then message. but truly, you were sneaking out and heading towards the frat.
you put on your sneakers and a hoodie, pulling the strings tightly around your head. the early december weather was no joke in massachusetts, and your thermal leggings were barely helping to keep you warm. as quietly as possible, you leave through the back door, making sure not to alert anyone or anything. not like you have a system to alert though.
you cut through some of the hedges until you’re in the front yard and the frat is staring at you from across the street. taking a deep, chilly breath, you cross the road with your frozen fingers tucked in your pocket.
all the lights in the top rooms were off, except one. you’re not totally sure which one is peter’s, but what other frat guy would stay up until 11 p.m. working on homework?
maybe ned, but he sleeps downstairs.
you walk until you’re under the window, the yellowish light taunting you. there was no latter, vine, rope, or magic hair to get you into the bedroom. the houses were built very similarly, and you know he doesn’t bring a latter with him.
so how does he do it?
you take a glance at your surroundings. the biggest difference of your houses was that the guys’ didn’t have large garden hedges. they just had a shit ton of messy bushes that they should probably trim once in a while.
having no ideas, you try to jump towards the window. great, that’s totally going to help you. maybe you’ll get some super jump that can spring you up and inside.
you feel stupid. yeah, peter may be the smartest person on campus and going to mit on a full academic scholarship, but how does he sneak into your room? with geometry? you didn’t think so.
wait.
what if… he’s hiding something from you?
that would explain why he’s so weird about it. letting the impulsive decisions take you over, you throw a rock at his window. hopefully, you’ll get his attention and he’ll come down, so you can see how he does it. or he’ll just go through the front door… whatever he does, you need to ask him this question right now. or else you’ll never be able to sleep again.
when throwing the rock gets tedious and noisy, you quit. just as you’re about to drop to the ground in annoyance, you hear a distant whipping sound. you hold your breath as if the person whipping will hear you.
fuck. it wasn’t a good idea for you to go out at night.
suddenly feeling anxious and scared, you slowly creep towards the sorority house. you don’t get too far before you see a body flinging through the air. the whipping noise gets closer and closer to you with every web on the streetlights. what the…
there’s only one person that could possibly be doing the impossible.
spider-man.
but what was he doing in your little neighborhood? this was one of the safest places in the area, so he didn’t need to check up here. there were so many more places in massachusetts that needed saving. feeling beyond curious, your feet scatter to hide you behind one of the untrimmed bushes.
you watch through crowded leaves as spider-man swings through the neighborhood, getting towards you. it’s like he can sense you and he’s coming for you. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, nervous about seeing him. you’ve never seen him before, and at least not in person. he was popular on the newspaper and television screens, but never on the street. unless you lived within the city.
with one long and final thwip, spider-man flings himself towards the frat house.
what. the…
you place your hand over your mouth, just in case your breathing is too loud. you intensely watch as the spider crawls up the white wall and towards the only lit window in the whole house.
no. fucking. way.
before you could fully register what you were seeing, you felt the gasp leave your mouth. you slap both of your hands on your face to shut yourself up. you nearly fall back on your heels as spider-man halts his movements. he scans his surroundings before jumping down the wall entirely.
your eyes are wide and your hands of shaking. you’ve never felt your heart beat so unbelievably fast, but you’ve also never been more afraid. what does he do to people that find out? what is going to happen to your relationship?
the body of blue and red stocks closer to the bushes with careful steps. you try to scoot away, but your back hits the fence. the wood creaks, your actions not quiet enough. his footsteps pick up speed as they rush to the bushes with determination.
spider-man jumps over the plant with grace, hoping to see a wild animal of some sort. but when he sees his girl with the most shocked and terrified expression in the world, he immediately falls to his knees.
“y/n,” he calmly says, slowly inching to you. he doesn’t hesitate to comfort you as peter. you don’t move, you just listen. “it’s okay. i promise.”
now that he sensed you, peter could hear your heartbeat overbearingly in his ears. he could hear your muffled breaths under your palm, and he just wanted to soothe your fear.
“baby,” he wanted to cuddle your body until you stopped shaking. you weren’t crying, you were just in shock. peter takes a quick glance at his surroundings before yanking off his mask and kneeling, so you could see his face reflecting off the moonlight. “it’s just me.”
“i…” you whispered as your hands fell from your face. peter doesn’t hesitate to grab them gently with his gloved ones. “…knew it.”
“you knew i was spider-man?”
“well… for like five seconds,” you flusteredly laugh while trying to recover. you still haven’t gotten used to this. well it’s only been a minute. “i knew you were hiding something.”
“what are you doing out this late anyway?” he stares straight up at the moon as it shines vehemently over you both.
“uh… well,” you start, “i was kind of curious as to how you always snuck into my bedroom without a latter or something, so i went to see? i don’t really know what i was looking for.”
peter chuckles. “but you found your answer, yeah?”
“yeah, i did,” you smile with sweetness as peter helps you up from the grass floor.
“it’s different breaking into your room rather than mine,” you say as you sit on the edge of peter’s bed. you watch as he tosses his mask inside of a box labeled books. “so that’s what was in the box. not dirty magazines.”
“surprise?” peter laughs and you giggle at his shyness. his cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but also from the slight blush that crossed them. you made him feel all warm and tingly inside, and even a little gooey.
his hand reaches for the button on his chest. it deflates, instantly becoming huge around him.
“wait,” you stop him before he undresses himself. he looks towards you. “can i just… look at you for a moment? in the suit?”
a small smirk creeps up his face. peter clicks the button again and his suit encloses on his body, outlining his muscles perfectly. every ridge and curve of him was being shown off by the spandex. you felt a spark of lust fire inside of you at the sight.
“like me in my suit, baby?” he teased as he trudged over to you. you stood up from the bed to meet his buff chest. you nodded with a bite of your lip.
he nearly growls before attaching your lips. it’s barely been a day since he’s last kissed you, but that’s too long for him. his gloved hand grips your jaw to deepen the kiss while your hands explore his messy hair.
the heat between you was undeniable. you were getting worked up over peter in his suit, and that’s something you never thought was possible. because you didn’t think peter being spider-man was possible.
is there a spider-man kink?
you take your shirt off after breaking the kiss, but resume it in no time. as he pushes you onto the bed, you stop him, having a new idea in mind.
“peter,” you sigh, spandex body hovering over yours.
“you okay?”
“yeah, yes. i just…” you swallowed, “can i…”
you didn’t really get your question out. you just slithered your body off the bed until your knees were digging into his carpet. peter’s eyebrows shoot up as he stares down at your figure, submissive below him.
“fuck. you want to touch my cock?” peter was already growing hard at the idea of fucking you in his suit. he found it hot that you found his suit hot. everything seemed to be a turn on right now. but now you were on your fucking knees like an angel and damn near begging to touch him?
how could he say no?
“go ahead then, sweet girl,” peter allows, but you stay still.
“how do i take it off—?”
“right—”
he unzips a zipper that you swear wasn’t there before. you barely take him fully out before you’re drooling at the sight. he was big and thick, and you don’t think you’d ever get used to looking at and feeling him.
your thumb drags over his weepy tip and he winces at your freezing touch.
“sorry!” you exclaimed with a funky smile. he forcefully laughs while you spit warmth into your hand.
“it’s okay, baby.”
your delicate hand wraps around him as you shift up and down. he sighs into the air, eyes fluttering back. your other hand scratches his thighs lightly. then, you fondle his balls until he’s groaning above you.
“fuck, darling,” he moans as his rough hand rests on your head. with his grip on you, you feel inclined to put your mouth on him. you’re barely an inch away, so what are you waiting for?
your lips pucker as you kiss his veiny shaft. you see from the top of your eyes how his face floods with pleasure, and your ego rises.
“if you look at me like that again, i’m going to explode, baby,” peter husks with his fingers laced in your hair for support.
with a hummed chuckle, you finally place your mouth on him. you suck on his leaky tip as a deep groan elicits from him. his noises always give you a bunch of reassurance, so you hum against him in satisfaction.
“takin’ me so well,” peter forces himself to stay still and let you do all the work. although, his hips just want to break free and ram into the back of your throat until you lose your voice. for another time… “love when you’re on your knees for me.”
you vibrated a moan against his cock as you took him deeper, a little more than half way. you were never the best at giving head because you couldn’t go that far down without gagging atrociously, but after peter showed you a better technique, for breathing and comfort, he thought you were a professional.
“you like being on your knees for me? or for spider-man?”
a groggy moan rippled around his cock from your filled throat, confirming his suspicions. you were definitely turned of the idea of peter as spider-man, and because of that, he was too. every time you were horny, peter was too.
you released your hands from him and braced them on his thighs. you focused and remembered the small notes he’s given you before. you take a long breath before sinking his cock deep in the back of your mouth. your thumb stabs your palm to eliminate your gag reflex, and it works. your nose nudges the base of his cock and you can see up close how his abs contract tightly.
“fuck! doing so good for me. going to make me come, sweet girl.”
hearing this, you bob and twist your head with a goal. your tongue swirls exploring around each ridge like it’s never tasted the plain before. peter was delicious; he was sweet with a pinch of saltiness that made you a fan of giving head. you would get on your knees any day for him.
his cock twitches in your mouth, warning you that he’s coming. you feel his hips buck into you as he strongly yanks your hair. you groan as he lets himself go.
“where do you want it? on your face? chest? or are you going to swallow it like a good girl?”
even when his dick twitches again, you don’t make an effort to move. you lick the underside of him, which sends peter over the edge.
a string of hushed groans fall from his pink lips as his muscles clench. ropes of his orgasm spurts down your throat, and you swallow every drop like a champ. well, almost all. parts of his come drip from the corner of your lip as he slowly pulls out of you.
the second he exits you, your jaw is instantly sore and achy, but it was worth it. to see the flustered and breathless peter above you was worthless everytime. peter was nearly disoriented by how fucking incredible your mouth was. how you were.
he tucks himself back into his suit as you remain on the floor. he leans down and helps you up, your knees popping in the process.
“how was it this time?” you croaked, voice cracking horrendously. peter tries not to laugh as he wipes away the nearly dried sperm on your face. you open your mouth without a thought, and he sticks his thumb in your mouth for you to lick it clean.
“it was good. fucking amazing. impeccable. exceeded expectations. outstanding performance—”
“okay, okay i get it. you’re a nerd!” you brokenedly laugh as you shove his chest. you got a sudden wave of chills because you were starting to get a bit cold. your body was still running hot because you were still, well, turned on.
“nerds are awesome, okay? they know everything.”
“like what? impress me,” you challenge as you throw your leg on top of his lap and get yourself seated. he smirks, feeling his cock chuff up a bit already. you were beyond soaked in your panties, and you just couldn’t wait for peter to destroy you.
peter knows you didn’t actually want him to say anything nerdy, so he made it a bit sexual. as always.
“they know how to… kiss.”
“you’re probably the one nerd that knows how to kiss.”
“okay, fine. i know how to kiss,” his hand cups your face as it leans closer towards his. he places a soft, longing kiss on your swollen lips before pulling away way too fast for your liking. “i know how to touch you, i know how to rile you up. right? i’m doing it right now. and you’re probably soaking.”
a warmth wave floods through your body at his words.
“i know how to talk to you too. bet these dirty words are going straight to your little clit, huh?”
“peter,” you whimper. he was right. he was beyond right.
his hand trails down your bare stomach and hovers over your clothed cunt. he can feel the heavy heat radiating from you through your leggings, begging for more.
“i can feel you. i can smell you, too. a perk of being spider-man,” he smiles, “guess this nerd is pretty great.”
“peter!” you shook his shoulders in desperation, but he didn’t move. you had a love hate relationship with his teasing. he indeed got you riled up, to the max, until you were begging him to touch you. he just dragged it on and on and on. he loved hearing you beg for it.
“okay, okay, sweet girl,” peter chuckled as his fingers fumbled down the waistline of your leggings. they were thick, so you helped him get them down. “just want to hear you say how awesome nerds are first. how do you think i made these webs?”
“you’re the hottest, super-nerd i’ve ever met in my life. now can you please fuck me?” you begged as your cunt ached.
“aw thanks, baby,” all he did was laugh at your misery with a smirk. “all you had to do was say please.”
note: not my best work, but i hope you enjoyeddd. literally posting this at 1 am :D
taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz
crossed out= not able to tag
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cheollipop · 1 year ago
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first of all HI HELLO IM SORRY FOR SPAM REBLOGGING ALL OF YOUR STUFF now that that’s out of the way…. speaking of idol radio when they were playing the “i love you” game and one mr being yunhos first step was like 5 feet long?!?!?!?!? all i could imagine was like teasing him all day and he’s finally had enough and is stalking up to you like that while trapping you against the wall i’m gonna scream he’s been bias wrecking me for like two months now and it’s SICK
THANK YOU FOR REBLOGGING OMG??? please don't apologize,, I love getting feedback and I am now crying happy tears in the corner of my room.
I've only watched random clips from that episode (it seems like atz are celebrating pride month wholeheartedly btw) and ikr?? everyone being whipped for yunho is so valid like... I'd be fighting every single member for him if I were them too. he just HAS to use those long ass legs to bias wreck me even more--so I get you on that dw skfjje
(this ended up being a gn!reader drabble btwww)
no bc imagine after a long day of filming, his eyes trailing off the cameras to you—sitting cross-legged behind the director, complimenting all the members except him after every scene then looking up at him through your eyelashes, blinking innocently as though you were unaware of what you were doing. the music video shoot took longer than usual, the crew sharing bewildered glances as—out of everybody—yunho repeatedly messed up the choreography.
clad in yunho's puffer jacket, you made your way back to the dressing rooms after the shoot with him trailing behind you, waiting for the soft click of the door before turning around to face him. a shiver ran down your spine at his narrowed eyes, a visible twitch moving his left eyebrow as he continued his steps towards you. long, toned legs moved forward and you instinctively cowered back, your palms swinging behind you until they collided with the painted wall.
now trapped between yunho's towering body and the cool concrete, you blinked up at him cautiously, noting the subtle clench of his jaw.
"having fun?" he spoke, voice gruff and strained as his molars grinded over each other.
you stiffled the sly smile teasing at the corners of your mouth, tilting your head in faux naivety. "what do you mean?"
"(y/n)," he sucked in sharp breath, leaning in until his face was mere centimeters from yours, his eyes wide and threatening. "are you gonna behave?"
your shoulders stiffened up, his eyes glancing at your frozen body before moving back up to your face. you kept up the facade, though, despite the warm hand trailing up your hip and under your top, fingers digging into the bare skin of your waist.
"yuyu, I-"
"what's it gonna take, hm? do you want me to stuff you full of cum—have you leaking through your pretty little panties so the others could see you're mine?" He pressed his body flush against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist and bring you even closer. "is that what you want?"
timidly, you nodded, a breathy moan blowing over yunho's chin when he pressed his hardening cock into your hip.
he scoffed, "look at you, so docile and needy at the mere mention of cock," yunho's voice lowered to a whisper, leaning his head closer to your ear. "is my pretty baby a slut?"
you melted into his touch, burying your face into the crook of his neck and reveling in the hands wandering over your body. "only for you, yuyu."
"mm, that's right," he smiled, his fingers dipping under your waistband. "I guess just I'll have to make sure the others know that too."
(I'm totally sane rn *eye twitch*)
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avonne-writes · 8 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/744467914520936448/httpswwwtumblrcomavonne-writes74446459189503
omg i really love this because it’s such a casual and easy thing to do so maybe in the moment bucky just goes for it but immediately he’s noticed how buck has gone stiff and maybe it’s hard to put those dots together so eventually (i always see them having these difficult convos when bucky is cuddling buck late at night and his guard is down) he asks him about it, exactly in the way u said in a very precise and specific way, and buck not only confirms but is relaxed enough to give further details.
i think a part of bucky would def feel bad when he hears it’s about buck’s dad even though he had no way of knowing and buck def does not hold it against him. he definitely would get over it very quickly, i just think in the moment when ur in a vulnerable position and something happens that’s sort of jarring for u it would have a big effect on u
I absolutely agree! I wrote a drabble, although it goes a little bit differently. I think it would be interesting to see them talk about Gale's hard no's when they're cuddling at night and the darkness and each other's closeness make it easier to talk.
Short nsfw drabble below
Bucky is sat up against the headboard, his boxers still on but for little purpose other than decoration because Gale's hand is inside them, feeling him up, pulling at him lazily as they make out in his bed. Gale’s knees bracket Bucky's thighs and his weight traps Bucky with barely any room for left to shift towards Gale's touch. He can still move his arms though, and move he does, running his palms all over Gale’s bare torso, then his thighs, teasing inside the legs of his underwear before sliding them up and to the back to squeeze his ass.
Gale hums into Bucky's mouth. "I'm gonna ride you."
The noise Bucky makes is the most embarrassingly eager sound that has ever left his throat. A shudder of arousal races through his body. He loves it when Gale just tells him like that, without uncertainty. When he lets Bucky anticipate it. With one hand, he cups the back of Gale's head and pulls him into a rough kiss, with the other, he slides Gale's underwear down over the globe of his ass. He runs his hand over the bare skin there in restless excitement, feeling the curve of muscle fit perfectly in his palm, then gives it a firm smack.
Gale goes stiff as a board and stops moving.
His hands withdraw, and he breaks the kiss, pulling his boxers back up and leaning back on his haunches. He holds Bucky's hands away from his body by pushing gently against his wrists.
Bucky’s heart stops for a moment, all his thoughts screaching to a halt. He frowns at Gale and finds him frowning back, confusion mirroring discomfort. Bucky’s cock, so ready to shoot off just a second ago, deflates to half-mast. "What’s wrong?"
Gale’s nostrils flare. His frown doesn’t ease up, but he’s not pulling further away either. Their arms are still frozen stretched out by Gale’s sides, hands brushing each other. "Nothing."
Bucky clicks his tongue. "Don't tell me it's nothing. You went from a hundred to zero in two seconds." He drops his hands to Gale's knees. "You don’t like it when I spank you, do you?"
Gale's face turns red. He averts his gaze to the side. His expression smooths out into careful neutrality. "I don’t."
Bucky moves his hands up to Gale's waist, then wraps his arms around him. He's nervous for a split second, but Gale reacts well. He loops his arms around Bucky's shoulders in turn and leans forward until his face is tucked into Bucky's neck. They're silent for a few minutes. His curiosity is killing Bucky but he tries to resist pushing, because Gale never yields to that.
His patience pays off. Eventually, Gale sits back again and gives him a look. "Thinking about my dad kills the mood."
"Your dad?" Bucky's eyebrows rise. He too, was spanked as a kid a few times. Nothing unusual about that. But that never made him associate the act with his parents.
Gale starts stroking Bucky's chest with his fingertips, drawing his blunt nails over it too, as if trying to distract him, but Bucky's focus has already shifted back to his brain from his groin.
"He expected discipline. And I -" Gale tilts his head back, smiling without any joy in his eyes. "- was a very naughty child."
"I doubt that."
"Dad thought so."
"He also thought feeding you was second to his bets at the pony tracks."
Gale smiles at Bucky sadly, then gives him a kiss. When he pulls back, he presses their foreheads together. "I don’t wanna be punished." He whispers against Bucky's lips with uncharacteristical openness.
Bucky pulls him into a tighter embrace and kisses him back. "Never. Never with me."
His next kiss swallows Gale’s answering sigh of relief.
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pinchofhoney · 1 year ago
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Omg Dean Winchester x Reader (platonic) where Dean and Sam are on a hunt and maybe reader was kidnapped??? And when they save her, she just immediately gets attached to Dean? Like she can't leave his side and at first he's really annoyed but eventually gets used to it?
(Sorry for all of my platonic requests I just don't see enough of them 😅)
frozen fear
dean winchester x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k
warning: platonic relationship, mild swearing, one description may be disturbing to some readers, comfort
summary: Life has a way of humbling even the bravest, and it's not always a gentle lesson.
a/n: hello!! thank you so much for your request! i had a lot of fun working on it; while planning the plot i felt the same feeling i had when writing my little fiction stories before my disappearance and honestly i missed it a lot!! but, in the middle of writing, i realized that it escaped my attention that you wanted it to be just sam with dean on the hunt, so unfortunately the text i wrote will be a little different from your request:(( i'm so sorry, i hope you enjoy the story anyway!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @one-sweet-gubler @lonelywitchv2
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gif is not mine, credit to @/justjensenanddean
You shifted onto your back, letting your tired eyes wander across the shadowy ceiling. The wall clock's relentless ticking concealed the time, but you were certain that sleep should have already claimed you by now. Resting in one of the motel's less-than-cozy beds, nestled near Telluride, Colorado, the room's silence was intermittently shattered by Dean's unrelenting snoring, which was pushing you to the brink of madness.
With a soft sigh, you raised yourself into a seated position, your hands cradling your tired face, a silent battle raging within you to resist the urge to suffocate Dean with a pillow. Your gaze darted to the sleeping Sam, then settled on Dean's back as he lay on his side.
You arrived in town alongside the Winchester brothers, ready to tackle a puzzling string of mountain disappearances. The circumstances surrounding the case remained a mystery to you, with the root cause still shrouded in uncertainty. Although you had your suspicions, you knew there was plenty of work ahead, and the prospect of a sleepless night didn't exactly lift your spirits.
You arched your head back, returning your gaze to the ceiling as another sigh escaped your lips. At last, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. Your hand reached for one of the brothers' jackets, and with a simple motion, you exited the room. You hoped that a quick walk in the cold, fresh night air could make you sleepy. Maybe the wind will whip me into such a state that I'll lose my hearing and finally drift off to sleep, you thought slightly amused, looking for positives in this pathetic situation.
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The sun's faint morning rays began to seep through the curtains of the dimly lit motel room. Sam stirred in his bed, his sleep-laden eyes blinking open as he noticed the absence of a familiar presence beside him. He frowned and turned his head, only to find an empty bed where you had been resting just hours before.
Sam sat up abruptly, his heart racing as he scanned the room. Dean, who had been sprawled out in another bed, all this time snoring softly, was now roused by Sam's sudden movement. He blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend the situation.
“Dean!” Sam hissed urgently, his voice tinged with alarm. “Wake up! Y/N's gone!”
Dean sat up sluggishly, not entirely comprehending the commotion. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for alarm. Nobody had forcefully confined you to the room, so it seemed obvious to him that you had simply risen early for a morning stroll.
“Sam, relax,” Dean muttered, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation yet. “Y/N probably stepped out for breakfast or something. She'll be back.”
But as Sam's gaze darted around the room, he noticed something that heightened his unease. “Dean,” he said, his voice tinged with increasing concern, pointing at the empty hook where Dean's jacket should have been hanging.
Dean finally started to stir fully awake, glancing at the vacant hook, and then back at Sam. “Okay, so maybe Y/N took my jacket too. It's not a big deal.”
As Dean spoke, Sam's eyes fell upon something on the nightstand. It was your phone, usually never left behind. He grabbed it and held it up for Dean to see. “Dean, Y/N's phone is here,” Sam said with a sense of growing concern. “She wouldn't have gone anywhere without it.”
Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the realization set in. The absence of both you and your phone suddenly felt more ominous. “Alright, let's not jump to conclusions,” he said, though the unease in his voice was palpable. “We'll wait a little longer, but if she doesn't come back soon, we need to check things out and see if there's anything else strange going on.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of time slipping away
Dean fought to keep his emotions in check, methodically going about his morning routine, from toothbrush to getting dressed. His emotions were simmering beneath the surface, but he was determined not to let them get the best of him.
Meanwhile, Sam perched at the table, your mobile phone resting prominently before him. His gaze remained fixed on the device, a glimmer of hope that you might soon breeze through the room door, bearing coffee and a bagel, filling the space with your familiar presence.
“It's a quarter past eight already,” Sam remarked, his eyes shifting to his brother. He leaned on the table, his fingers anxiously toying with the first signs of stubble on his chin. “We have no idea when she left,” he added with a touch of frustration.
Dean pondered the situation briefly, meeting Sam's gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance clear in his expression and tone.
The mounting tension in the room finally propelled the brothers into action. Dean grabbed his flannel shirt, throwing it on, and Sam slipped your phone into his pocket before they headed toward the motel room door.
“We’ve got to figure out what’s going on,” Sam declared, his voice determined.
Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “I swear I'm gonna fucking kill her if she's just making fun of us.”
As they prepared to leave, Sam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at the room, a glimmer of hope still flickering in his eyes. “Let's leave the door unlocked,” he said quietly, as much to reassure himself as Dean. “Just in case Y/N comes back.”
With that, they stepped out into the brisk morning, making quick strides in the direction of the parked Impala.
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You slowly regained consciousness, a disorienting haze clouding your senses. Your body ached with a piercing pain, and a strange, unpleasant feeling gnawed at you. Panic coursed through your veins as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
It was pitch black, and you couldn't see a thing. The air was thick with a noxious stench that seemed to cling to your very skin. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, and you groaned, attempting to move, only to realize that your limbs were bound, and you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you.
Panic turned to terror as your hands met resistance above your head. You strained your neck, struggling to see what lay beyond you. And then, as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the horrifying truth revealed itself.
You were hanging from the ceiling, head down, alongside two other lifeless bodies. Their forms dangled grotesquely, and it was clear they had been here for some time, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
The realization hit you like a sledgehammer. You were trapped in a Wendigo's cave, your own fate hanging precariously above you. Your heart pounded, and terror coursed through your veins as you fought to remain as still and silent as possible, praying that the creature responsible for this nightmare wouldn't return anytime soon.
As you pored over the Winchester brothers' father's journal, your suspicions honed in on the Wendigo as the likely culprit behind the recent disappearances. Still, you couldn't help but question the accuracy of your deduction. While it was true that the brothers had successfully hunted down one of these creatures before, encountering a Wendigo in Colorado felt like a rare occurrence, far from their usual hunting grounds.
There was no room for doubt now, but finding yourself on the potential victim list hardly allowed you to relish your accurate suspicions.
Your heart raced in your chest, its thunderous beats resonating in your ears like a drumroll of dread. The blood surged to your face, turning it into a stifling mask of heat and anxiety. What made it all the more unbearable was the uncertainty, not knowing how long you'd been hanging there or when the fiendish creature might return to its lair.
Straining your ears, you listened intently for any hint of the creature's reappearance, but the stifling silence held sway.
Then, a faint yet unmistakable sound reached your ears—a distant shuffle, accompanied by muffled voices. Hope surged within you as you recognized the voices. It was Sam and Dean.
Tears welled up in your eyes as their voices drew nearer, and you struggled to rein in the overwhelming rush of relief and joy. Their flashlights cast wavering beams that danced eerily on the cave walls as they advanced cautiously.
“Y/N?” Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, laced with concern.
You managed a weak response, your voice trembling with emotion. “Here!”
Their flashlights swept over you, illuminating your precarious predicament. A mixture of shock and unwavering determination twisted their faces as they took in the horrifying scene before them.
A wave of relief washed over you like a soothing tide as Sam and Dean hurried to your side. Sam swiftly sized up the situation, his nible fingers skillfully working to free you from your bindings. With each passing moment, the suffocating grip of fear and captivity began to loosen its hold.
Dean, standing guard with unwavering vigilance, maintained a watchful eye on the cave's entrance, ensuring that the Wendigo wouldn't return to catch you in a vulnerable moment. His weapon remained poised and ready
As Sam's efforts finally set you free, you were lowered gently to the cave floor. Weak and disoriented, you clung to him, finding solace in the reassuring presence of your friends amidst the foreboding darkness that had held you captive.
With you safely on the cave floor, Sam turned his attention to your well-being, his concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you stand?”
You nodded weakly, your voice quivering from a mixture of exhaustion and unease. “I think so.”
In response, Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief, his furrowed brow smoothing out somewhat. He turned his attention back to you, his worry palpable. “Can you fill us in, Y/N? We all went to bed in the motel room, and now you're hanging in this cave. What the heck happened?”
Balancing yourself with Sam's support, you drew in a steadying breath to calm your frazzled nerves. “I don't know, Dean,” you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Your snoring was so deafening that I was on the brink of committing a crime. I had to escape the room for some respite, and then... Then I woke up here, like this, with no idea how I ended up in this nightmare.”
The haunting memory of that heart-stopping moment lingered in the air, causing your eyes to brim with tears once more. It was at this very moment that the full weight of the situation began to sink in—what might have befallen you, the chilling possibility of ending up like the lifeless body you had been hanging beside just moments ago.
As you gazed upon the concerned expressions of the men, the urge to reassure them that you were alright welled up within you. You only needed a little time to collect yourself. However, something beyond their shoulders seized your attention with a grip far stronger.
Your eyes widened in sheer terror, and your heart raced, momentarily clouding your thoughts with a hazy fog of panic. It took you a precious moment to summon the words, but finally, your voice found a way past your constricted vocal cords. “D-Dean!” you exclaimed with a raised voice, your trembling finger pointing emphatically toward the gaping maw of the cave entrance.
Your panicked cry pierced the cave's silence, and the Winchester brothers pivoted toward the cave entrance, their expressions shifting from concern to sheer determination.
Before your eyes, the Wendigo emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering light of Sam and Dean's flashlights. The monster snarled, a chilling, otherworldly sound that sent shivers down your spine.
Sam and Dean wasted no time. With a practiced synchronicity born from years of hunting, they unleashed a torrent of fire upon the creature. Flames danced and crackled in the cave's depths, casting unnatural, shifting shadows.
The Wendigo roared in agony as the flames consumed it, its monstrous form writhing in torment. The stench of burning flesh and the creature's wails filled the cave, creating a nightmarish tableau of desperation.
You wanted to do something, to help the Winchesters in some way, but fear paralyzed you. You'd encountered countless demons, monsters, and shapeshifters in the past, but facing this particular breed of creature was an entirely unprecedented experience for you.
As the Wendigo was consumed by the flames, its otherworldly shrieks reached a deafening crescendo before being abruptly silenced. The once-terrifying monster was now nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, its threat extinguished by the relentless fire.
Sam and Dean turned to you, their expressions now radiant with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Sam extended a hand toward you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here.”
You nodded, your throat still tight with the remnants of fear, and took Sam's hand as he helped you to your feet. Dean followed, his grip firm on your shoulder, offering silent support.
The three of you made your way out of the cave, stepping back into the cool night air of the Colorado woods. The moon cast a pale, comforting glow upon the landscape, a stark contrast to the horrors you had just faced.
As you reached the Impala parked nearby the forest, Dean spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. “We'll head back to the motel, Y/N. You need some rest.”
Sam nodded in agreement as he opened the car door for you. “And a hot shower wouldn't hurt either.”
You climbed into the car, the leather seats offering a welcome comfort. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam settled in beside you.
The engine roared to life, and as the Impala rumbled down the winding forest road, Sam turned to you with a small, reassuring smile. “You did great back there, Y/N. We've got your back.”
The only source of comfort during this terrible ordeal was Dean's jacket, now worn and stained. It still clung to your shoulders, providing a bit of solace. You folded your arms across your chest, embracing the jacket's familiar warmth as if it was a security blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to reassure yourself that the nightmare was over and you were now safe.
Recent events had shattered your belief in your own fearlessness, exposing the simple truth that you had a long way to go before you could match Sam and Dean's hunting prowess. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question whether you were truly prepared to reach their level of expertise.
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Weeks drifted by, and the memories of the Wendigo's cave continued to haunt your every waking moment. Anxiety had taken root deep within you, coiling around your thoughts like a relentless serpent. To cope, you found solace in staying as close to Dean Winchester as possible, as if his presence alone could shield you from the lingering horrors.
However, this newfound need for constant presence began to grate on Dean's nerves. He valued his personal space and independence, and your persistent closeness was beginning to wear on him.
One evening, as you shadowed his every move in the bunker, Dean couldn't help but voice his frustration. “Y/N,” he began, his tone laced with irritation, “I appreciate you being cautious, but you don't have to be glued to my side every second.”
Your eyes widened, and you stammered a response, “I-I'm just trying to be safe, Dean. You know, in case something happens again.”
Dean sighed, his irritation softening into understanding as he looked at you. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I know you're scared, and it's okay to be cautious. But you have to remember, we're hunters. Our lives are filled with risks, and we've faced worse than that Wendigo together.”
He continued, his eyes locking onto yours, “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you, but you also have to take care of yourself. Being a hunter means facing fear head-on, and sometimes that means standing on your own two feet.”
You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dean was right; you couldn't let fear rule your life forever.
With Dean's words echoing in your mind, you began to make a conscious effort to rely on yourself more. There were moments when you found the courage to try out on your own, even if it was just for a short while, to confront the remnants of your fear. Gradually, you felt a glimmer of your old, independent self resurfacing.
But there were still times when the weight of anxiety bore down on you, and in those moments, you sought solace in Dean's presence. You found comfort in his unwavering support and understanding. He noticed your struggles and approached them with patience and acceptance.
Instead of pushing you away when you clung to him, Dean embraced your need for reassurance. He let you lean on him when the anxiety became overwhelming, understanding that healing was a gradual process. Whether it was a reassuring word, a comforting touch, or simply his silent presence, Dean was there for you.
You both found a balance. You were getting better at facing your fears, and Dean was getting better at being there when you needed support.
242 notes · View notes