#don’t ask me what this is because I couldn’t tell you

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the black sheep

a/n: wrote this at five in the morning after i woke up from a nightmare ✌️

summary: “don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

warnings: soft!mob!bucky x mob boss daughter!reader, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, age gap, sexual references, horrible and abusive family, bullying, mental illness (depression, anxiety, stress), references to being institutionalised at a terrible place against one's will, party, dancing, crying

word count: 1511

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The creak of a heavy pair of boots crossing over the threshold found your ears, though didn’t persuade your neck to twist around and see who had appeared in the doorway. 

“Miss?” Bucky’s tone echoed quietly throughout the room as his metal hand continued to clutch the doorhandle he’d just twisted. 

But instead of tearing your eyes away from the night sky that twinkled on the other side of the window, you instead continued to sit on the floor, the fancy dress you’d been forced into wrinkling around your legs, as you faintly began to murmur, “you know, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little…” your eyes traced one of the constellations gleaming above, “it wasn’t because I had some fascination with space, but it was the one thing I could imagine that would take me as far away from here as possible…” a breath escaped you before your vision finally floated back down to earth and you glanced over your shoulder, “would you mind closing the door? It’s so loud out there…” 

As you reunited your gaze to the world outside and you heard the door shut behind you, the mobster then carefully asked, “are you alright?” 

“Don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to conceal his painful awareness of your situation. 

“I know what the others say behind my back,” you uttered, your mind haunted by their voices, playing the comments on a loop till they turned into boiling tar, “poor Y/n, weak and broken Y/n who is crazy and could never really be a part of this family… but unfortunately for everyone, I am,” you breathed, memories of your adolescence flooded your system, how they had sent you away to a broken institution at the smallest sign of vulnerability, “so I could never just leave. I couldn’t go out and earn my own money, they would cut off any attempt I made of getting a job in this city,” you pointed out their power, “and if I tried to get away, move to somewhere else, then they would have to take care of that as well because they can’t have a liability just out there. They own me, and they’ve made sure that I am nothing without them, and with them, I’d never be able to accomplish a goddamn thing. They wouldn’t hesitate to cut my life short if I ever stepped out of line again, you know that, it happened to my aunt… for all I know, it’ll probably happen as soon as my brother takes over, it is after all what everyone has surely wished for since the day I was born…” 

As those last few venting words escaped your lips, a sinking feeling bloomed in your stomach as you realised those shattering truths hadn’t been contained in your thoughts alone. 

“Oh shit…” tears began to blur your vision as you spun around and jaggedly rose to your feet, “please don’t tell anyone about any of that,” you took a panicked step forward, “I–… I didn’t mean any of it, it’s not–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared back at the gangster, “what do you want?” you attempted desperately, “do you want money? I could talk to my father and give you another leg up? I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t tell anyone, I–…” 

An idea then struck through your terrified blubbering, and without giving it another thought, you dropped down to your knees before him. 

“What are you doing?” he finally spoke, blinking down at you by his feet. 

Wiping your cheek as a steady flow of tears rolled down them, you then reached out for Bucky’s belt and sniffled, “you can have me, if that’s what could buy your silence.” 

But instead, your father’s right-hand man grabbed your hands, “stop,” he pleaded, “just stop.” 

Blinking up into his eyes, your hazy vision then drifted down to his fingers enveloping your wrists before you gloomily concluded, “…right…of course… I get it,” your head bowed even further as you uttered, “why would you think of me any differently… of course, you wouldn’t want me to touch you, you probably think I’m cursed just like the rest of them do…” 

But instead of ripping his touch away from your skin as if it was a scorching flame, Bucky’s frame suddenly lowered to be at your level, kneeling by you before he lifted one of your palms up to cup his stubbly cheek.

“I don’t,” a faint shake found his head, “never have,” you found yourself floating away into the ocean of his eyes as he stared back at you, his slow breath fanning across your wet cheeks at the close proximity, “I won’t tell anyone what you said,” he promised, his deep voice nearly at a whisper, “you have my word.”

But as you were filled with equal amounts of uncertainty, as well as shock, footsteps on the other side of the door found you both and tore you apart, just before the door ripped open and in strolled the boss himself. 

“Barnes!” your father’s glare landed on the mobster first before it shifted to find you, hastily wiping your cheeks, “oh great, you found her,” he uttered impatiently, “darling, come, it’s time for your brother to cut the cake. You need to be there,” he swiftly waved a hand for you to shadow him. 

The storm of the party made you feel as if you could come undone and burst into tears at any moment, pushing and shoving your shaky soul till you felt like just a tiny speck of dust floating around in the air. Keeping your gaze on the floor as you pushed through the bustling crowds, it stayed there as your sibling sank a shiny blade into the ridiculously elaborate cake that was rolled out for everyone to applaud. 

Raw and bleeding while the others drank and laughed, your vision finally found enough courage to flicker up, though only to find those same blue eyes, across the room and locked upon you. 

When the music soon was cranked up high and people swarmed to the middle of the floor in pairs, you briefly spotted one of your brother’s friends, a guy not too far from your own age, march straight towards you with an air of confidence that couldn’t help but relax your tense shoulders as you were slowly filled with hope. 

But as he neared and a greeting fell from your lips, a confused look muddled up his features as he shot you a glance before grabbing the waiting hand of a girl standing in the crowd behind you. 

Amused snickers and cruel comments found your ears even though you knew their tones attempted to be silent.

“What a freak.”

“Could you imagine if it had actually been her he’d wanted to dance with? In her dreams.”

“She should just run back to that insane asylum she somehow escaped from.”

With your back soon pressed up against one of the perimeter walls, a shadow then came to darken the spot on the floor your reddened eyes were glued to. 

“You wanna dance?” you glanced up with a wide pair of eyes to spot Bucky settled in beside you. 

“Why?” your brows knit together, “so that everyone can have another thing to laugh about?” 

Holding out his palm, he then let out a sigh, “just take my hand,” and the next thing you knew, your fingers were tangled in his own. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, your eyes darting around to all the bewildered glances that shot your way, a sudden breath then filled your lungs as his wide palm slid over your waist and dragged you in closer to his frame, causing your vision to cease their torture and meet his own steady gaze instead. 

The sway was slow and intimate, though you weren’t sure if the sensation terrified or calmed you, as the intoxicating way he made you feel had previously been something you’d packed far away as just an inconsequential crush back when he’d first started working for your father. Though as he held you in his arms and showed you a rare display of compassion, how could your heart not begin to thump once more?

With your gaze hazily cast over his shoulder as you danced so near that your cheeks almost touched, the warmth of his hand then slid down to your lower back before he whispered in your ear, “I know it won’t fix anything, but if it was up to me, you’d be the one inheriting this whole business, not your brother,” he uttered sincerely under his breath, “he’s a hot-headed idiot, while you are stronger and more brilliant than all of these fools combined.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lorasdolly]

heyyy hru??

what abt a sevika fic where she’s punishing u cus u went out too late or smth

well sev or caitvi (Caitlyn and violet)

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓

────୨ৎ────

𝗰𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗹𝘆𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝘃𝗶

It was nearly 2am, the sky was dark, and your head was throbbing. You almost regretted disobeying Caitlyn and Vi as you reached the front door of your home, knowing they'd be in there.

You were tired of never going out without them, and whenever you'd ask why, Caitlyn would simply say "What on earth could you possibly have to do without us?"

Your hand clenched into fists at your side, the alcohol making your head swirl. Maybe you began to understand why it'd be better to have them with you, but you had to show them you weren't a little girl like they insisted on treating you!

Your hand circled the doorknob shakily, exhaling with a huff and twisting it. The house was dark, and there was hardly any noise. For a moment, you believed they didn't even notice you were gone.

You switched on the lights and dropped your purse at the front door. Slowly, you walked towards the living room, meeting Caitlyn's stern gaze with a brow cocked. Her legs were draped over Vi's and Vi sat there with a near pitiful expression.

A whimper left your lips, bottom lip extending outwards. Caitlyn tuts at your reaction, removing her legs from Vi's and standing. Her shoes clacked on the wooden floor, now hovering above you. You stared up at her through your lashes, batting them at her in hopes she'd soften up a bit.

But that method only worked on Vi, which you saw in the corner of your eye pursing her lips with expectation. Caitlyn grabbed your jawline harshly, forcing you to avert your gaze back onto her. She saw you hiss at the sting, scoffing in return.

"Do you take me for a fool, princess?" The petname was coated with condescension, presenting the anger that edged her words. You shook your head at her, cheeks still miserably squished between her hand. She cocked a brow, "Have you lost your tongue? Speak."

"N—No." You replied, words slightly muffled because of how your face was placed in her palm, humiliating you further. "Well, you surely could speak, I'm assuming your ears work too." A huff leaves your lips at her implication, averting your gaze once again and she squeezed. “I didn’t tell you to look away.” She stated, narrowing her vision down at you.

You whimper, trying to get some sort of sympathy from her. “Didn’t I tell you not to leave this house without permission?” She interrogated, demanding an answer with her glare. “Yeah.. b—but Cait—!” You began, “I can go out alone! I can handle myself..!” Your exclamation had just dug a deeper hole for yourself and you only realized when her hand traveled to your nape and then fisting your hair, tugging on it harshly to bring you towards the couch.

You whined at the force she used, grabbing at her clothes to slow her down but she didn’t budge, bringing you to straddle her lap. She scoffed once again before speaking, “Vi, did you hear the load of crap that left her lips?” She stared directly at you, smacking your lips lightly. Vi sighed, getting closer but not touching you yet, “Just needs a firm hand, right, doll?” She mumbled, looking at you.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, “Stop babying her. She said she’s a big girl and she’ll be treated as such.” She emphasized her words with a harsh tug at your hair, your hands holding onto her shoulders and whining. Vi’s hand came to stroke your hair, you knew that was a delicacy you couldn’t afford or take for granted. You pressed up against her hand but it didn’t last long when Caitlyn jerked it away.

“Don’t give her false hope, she needs to learn.” You huff, arms now crossing at how strict Caitlyn was being. Soon, you received a firm tap against your face from her, “Don’t start with the attitude.” Vi sighed, inching closer and cradling your face. “Gonna explain why’d you do that, baby?” She mumbled, just wanting to kiss you but knowing it would upset Caitlyn.

You turned to Vi and gave her puppy eyes, hoping she’d help you out of this situation. “I just wanted to go out, Vi! It’s not that serious..” The petulance behind your words and expression made Vi sigh again, disappointment prominent. Tears began to well at the sight of her being upset, Caitlyn was always angry but she snapped you right back into place without a fuss. Vi, on the other hand, always pitied you, told Caitlyn to go easy on you, and coddled you. She was truly upset this time and you could tell.

As the tears began to spill and your lips slightly parted you tried to crawl into her lap instead but Caitlyn kept her grasp on you. She held onto your hips, “Guess Vi doesn’t want to save you this time, want to repeat what you said to me?” She grabs your chin and you feel Vi leaving to the bedroom. Your tears rolled down, staring at Caitlyn, hoping she’d wipe them. But instead, she let them gather and create a damp spot on your shirt.

“Speak.” She repeated, tapping on your face firmly once again. “Wanted— wanted to go out with my friends, thought—“ You couldn’t finish your sentence when she slapped you this time, done with taps. Vi stepped into the living room agin, crouching behind you and snaking her hands around you to cradle your face and wipe the tears. Your small tears turned into streams, “You’re so mean, Cait!” You exclaimed, getting another slap across your face. “Watch your tone.”

“Shh, don’t make it worse for yourself, don’t be disrespectful.” Vi whispered, tying your wrist behind your back. “She’s just crying to win your sympathy, Vi.” Caitlyn stated, turning you to bend over her lap. Caitlyn hated how soft Vi turned for you, even when she was clearly upset. Your belly was on her lap, ass perched up. “Twenty.” Caitlyn said.

“Ten, c’mon cupcake, she’s crying.” Caitlyn shook her head, gathering your hair into an untied ponytail. “Fine, ten but she has to explain why what she did is wrong.” You kept crying but tried to stifle them, Caitlyn was trying to humiliate you. Vi helped with taking off your skirt and panties, showing your glistening cunt to her and display your ass.

Her palm clenches your hair and tugs it back so you could look at her, "Did you hear? Tell me what you did wrong." She demands, coming down onto your ass with a smack. You yelp, "Caitlyn!!" She slaps your ass again in return to the complaining, "Shut the fuck up, I told you to talk."

You whimper, "Went out and didn't tell you! Cait— Stop!" You exclaim, the fourth slap coming down on your ass. She does this till ten, tears streaming down and your cunt even wetter than it already was. Vi ran her thumb over your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick.

Caitlyn sits you up on her lap, smacking your cheek one last time. "Think I was awfully nicer than I should have been." She stated, caressing your chin gently. You shook your head, still too prideful to say sorry. You look to Vi should was removing her belt and pants, a damp spot on the fabric covering her pussy.

Vi strokes your hair, "Gonna let me take care of you?" She whispers, watching your grind down to relieve yourself against Caitlyn. Before you could agree, Caitlyn interrupted. "No, don't you think Vi deserves an apology, baby?" She questions, but it was rhetorical. "Yeah, I think she does." Caitlyn coos, watching the flushed expression on Vi's face.

You nod gently, going on all fours as Vi kneels on the couch. You stared up at her through your lashes and tugged on the boxers. "Wanna make you feel good, m'so sorry." Caitlyn tuts at how you only apologize to Vi, watching you lower her boxers and how Vi's breath catches in her throat.

Vi holds your hair back gently, "It's okay, baby, it's okay.." She whispered. Your tongue laid flat on her cunt, her hips rutting against it. "F—Fuck." You kept staring up at her, letting her use your mouth to get off.

Caitlyn came behind you, feeling silicone on your ass cheek. You whimpered at the coolness, the vibration going up Vi's core. She moaned, eyes darting to Caitlyn slipping the strap into your pussy, then smacking your ass. "Don't I deserve an apology too, baby? Only ever say sorry to Vi." She bottomed out and didn't even give you time to adjust to the stretch before thrusting out and slamming back in.

You moan, tongue quickening on Vi as she throws her head back. "Fuck—" Caitlyn's hips snapped against yours. "Answer me," You moaned, watching as Vi's orgasm fell onto her, fisting at your hair and grinding against your tongue to ride her high. Vi pulled away, spit coming down your chin, Caitlyn tugging at your hair to lift your back against her chest.

"Yeah, made Vi feel so good, what about me, baby?" She spoke directly into your ear, the squelching noises, your moans, and Vi's pants were bouncing off the walls. "Caitlyn- Cait-" She bites down on your shoulder disapprovingly. "I'm sorry– so— so fucking sorry," You respond, reaching closer to an orgasm by the moment.

"Gonna cum, princess?" She shifted her angle to fuck into your g-spot, her faux cock reaching anywhere inside you. You nodded, moaning, "Cu-cumming—" She holds your limp body in her arms, helping you stay stable.

When you were panting, she let you collapse onto the couch, head landing into Vi's lap. "Vi," You drawled out her name, finding your way into her grasp. "Love you so much," She chuckled, watching Caitlyn's reaction. She removed the strap, getting closer and kissing down your neck.

"You love me too or are you insisting on calling me mean?" A whine leaves your lips, not in the mood to argue but just be forgiven. "Nuh-uh, love you too," She chucked at how you spoke, a contrast to previously. She held you sandwiched between her and Vi.

[zepskies]

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

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Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

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[quarterlifekitty]

first of all i love womens hockey, strong ladies slamming up on the glass, amazing.

i went to a pwhl game and a man with his like teenage daughter were next to me and THAT MFER LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE JOHN PRICE hat and blue eyes and beard and everything it was nuts. anyways john price is a hockey girl dad of a scary 13 year old who kept staring at me the whole game.

just needed people to knoww

(fuck that mans gorgeous irl)

also i love your writing. Thank u for sharing ur brain w the internet.

That makes me think like. Imagine being John’s neighbor. You haven’t spoken more than pleasantries to him, introduced yourself to him and his daughter, made small talk at block parties.

And one cold day after school, his daughter is sitting on the front steps shivering, because she forgot her house key. You don’t have a spare, and John won’t be home for hours— so you tell her to stay inside your place until then. You call John and leave a message to let him know.

She’s a little wary of you, which is good. It’s not like you’re a total stranger, but you’re also not necessarily trustworthy yet. She just parks herself on the couch and watches whatever you’d had on tv, a little awkward as she sips the cup of tea you’d made her so she could warm up.

She ends up getting kinda attached. You joke with her that you watch the show that’s on because of the hot guys in it, and she smiles. She’s at that age, but of course she doesn’t really want to talk about it with John. You remember being 13, and she likes talking to you. John comes by once he’s home, thanks you profusely and apologizes for having to take up so much of your day. You tell him it was no trouble at all, and that she’s welcome any time.

She ends up taking you up on your offer. Usually after school, when her dad is still at work. You just leave the door open. She asks you questions about boys, about makeup— things she’s a little curious about but her mother isn’t around to answer. You get invited to all of her hockey games, with John insisting you sit next to him (when he can make it, that is).

You do holiday baking with her. She invites you to her birthday dinner. You’re welcomed over to John’s for every Christmas and other holiday they can manage to throw together a little gathering for. You’re so focused on her that you completely miss how John stares at you every single time you’re with his daughter.

Such a natural with her— and he’s had such a hard time connecting with her now that she’s becoming a teen. They’ve always had hockey, but it’s hard for him to accept that she’s not a baby anymore (even thought she’ll always be his baby). She storms over to your place every time they fight, and he’s eternally grateful she has somewhere to go for comfort when he doesn’t understand her.

She’s over at yours so much that he thinks it might be easier if you just moved in. That it would be a big age gap, but his daughter might like to have a little sibling. That if anything ever happened to him he’d want you to have every right to look after her. If that’s what you wanted, anyways.

And he loves his girl more than anything in the world, but it hasn’t been easy. Between raising her and his work, he doesn’t hardly have any time for dating. Whenever he’s tried— his daughter had found a problem with whoever he’d brought home, and that had signaled the end. It was hard enough to find anyone interested in dating a single parent.

So when you’d moved in next door, he couldn’t help himself. You’re pretty, single. He can see you through his window almost any time he wants. You don’t close your curtains nearly as much as you should, either. He’s just a man, y’know?

So, yeah, he’s made himself cum thinking of you more times than he can count. And it only gets worse once he has those fleeting thoughts about you being a mother for his girl. Maybe a few more kids if he can manage to get a ring on your finger. Insane thought to have when he’s never even asked you out on a date.

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[monster-effer]

Oh okk my wifi been acting up lately💀 I requested hcs with all the l&ds men about how'd they react to finding out reader can secretly pole dance, sfw and nsfw hcs if you do nsfw please! Thank you!!💕

This was a really fun concept to write about!!

It seems I am incapable of describing things concisely because this turned out much longer than I expected LMAO, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Sylus

Funnily enough, this starts from a game of tipsy Truth of Dare with Luke and Kieran. You chose truth and they asked you to tell them one unknown fact about yourself. You are a certified yapper when you’re tipsy so you blabbed about your pole dancing hobby then passed out and forgot about your confession.

Of course this info made its way back to Sylus (most likely that same night). And he was intrigued. He would tease you while asking why you’ve been keeping such an interesting hobby from him.

The very next day he would have a pole installed in one of the spare rooms of his home base.

The room would be decorated with in dark, seductive colors with ceiling lights that  showcase the pole and the immediate area around it.

There is no furniture in the room besides a plush black arm chair and a side table.

Sylus calls you over to the N109 Zone saying that he has a surprise for you.

When you arrive he’s all smirks and being more vague than usual. You also don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he lets you walk into the room first, you are speechless.

“Forgive me if this is too presumptuous kitten, but I couldn’t get the image of you pole dancing out of my mind. I have a request, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sylus chuckles huskily before replying “Have I ever left you empty handed? You know me better than that.”

You gulp at his offer and quickly don the outfit and shoes that are placed neatly near the pole in the room.

Sylus dims the lights in the room, with the ceiling lights over the pole brighter than the rest. He settles into the armchair and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He adjusts himself in his pants, already feeling his cock stiffen from the anticipation.

You stretch and take a few breaths to get yourself in the zone.

You connect your phone to the speaker in the room then play the first song from your pole dancing playlist.

Once you feel confident and ready, you make eye contact with Sylus and begin to sway to the seductive music.

Although you took several classes in person, you have never performed for anyone before.

You begin to slowly whine your hips to the beat and spin while maneuvering around the pole.

With Sylus’ full attention focused on you, you can’t help but feel like a goddess.

Sylus’ gaze is practically searing your skin. You begin to perspire from the effort you’re putting into this performance. Feeling bold, you slide all the way down the pole until your thighs are flush with the floor. Then, you crawl towards Sylus.

Sylus sharply inhales and puts down his emptied glass on the side table as he eagerly awaits what’s to come.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his knees and slowly rise to your feet. You flash a mischievous smile at him before straddling his lap. Then you wind your arms around his neck and look into his eyes as you grind down hard onto his lap.

Your breath intermingles as you hypnotize him with your undulating hips. When your performance ends you are lightly panting, nervously awaiting to hear his thoughts.

Sylus is mesmerized by the gift you’ve just given him. And he can’t help but to cup the right side of your face before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Your lips glide against one another before you both have to pull away to catch your breath.

“Does that mean you enjoyed the show?”

“You were exquisite my sweetie,” he says as he places his hands under your thighs and rises from the chair. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the door of the room.

“Now, let me give you your prize for that outstanding performance.”

Zayne

Zayne is walking around downtown Linkon when something catches his eye. He sees someone that looks suspiciously like you in the window of a fitness class. He has eyes for no one else as he watched you swing effortlessly around the pole. Not wanting to be mistaken for a pervert, he only watches for a few more moments before continuing on his walk.

He ends up walking past his intended destination because he was lost in thought over what he saw. So many questions pop into his mind. Luckily it is Thursday, and he has plans with you this weekend.

Saturday morning finally arrives, and you are at Zayne’s door holding an assorted box of fruit flavored macaroons.

As you let yourself in with your key, you find Zayne washing dishes in his kitchen. He is lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t immediately notice you’ve come in. You place the macaroons on the kitchen counter before circling his waist with your arms and resting your head on his back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.

“I just arrived. A penny for your thoughts?”

He finishes washing the dish in his hand before he dries his hand on a clean dish towel. He untangles his body from yours so he can face you.

“I saw something interesting when I was taking a stroll in downtown Linkon earlier this week.”

“Oh? And what was so interesting that it’s stayed on your mind until now?”

Zayne pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as a light blush overtakes his cheekbones.

“I saw someone who looked exactly like you a few days ago. They could have been your doppelgänger.”

It doesn’t immediately register in your mind that he’s talking about you yet.

“Oh? And what was my twin doing?”

He clears his throat before continuing. “Pole dancing,” he says in a low tone.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots.

“O-oh,” you say shakily.”

“It’s a new hobby that I picked up recently. I didn’t think you, my doctor, would complain about me building muscle,” you reply cheekily.

“It seems you misunderstood me. I am far from complaining. I do have a request though.”

“And what is that?”

“I request an encore performance, just for me. Considering your medical condition, it is not advisable to begin a new exercise routine without first consulting your doctor.” He says with the smallest grin on his face.

“When is your next available appointment? I had a pole installed in my apartment a week ago. We can conduct your assessment there.”

Rafayel

Rafayel comes across your knee pads and skimpy outfit when he visits your apartment one day.

“What kind of event calls for this outfit cutie?” He asks while holding up your short shorts and knee pads.

IMO Rafayel would be very curious about your pole dancing skills. He would teasingly request a demonstration of your skills and he’d be adorably flustered as he watches your body wind up, down and around the pole.

The man would be flabbergasted and turned on at this demonstration of strength and the expression of freedom as you perform for him.

The sensual nature of this private show is heavy in the room. He’s never seen you look so confident and carefree before. He lets out a weak moan as he watches you and begins to palm his erection through his dress pants.

As a result of your performance, his libido and creativity are at an all time high.

He would have a pole installed in his studio and call you over one day.

He would request that you to hold various poses for him as he attempts to capture the raw sensuality you exude.

Rafayel would get so worked up while he paints that his ever steady hand begins to shake. Before he is done, he is begging for you to use him for your own pleasure. Whether it be riding his face, his cock or his fingers. Any of those get him off because your pleasure is his.

This develops into a pleasurable cycle.

One, two, three paintings later result in Rafayel being desperate and needy for you. More so than he already was. He is never letting you go.

And the paintings of you begin to pile up in his studio. But they aren’t for sale of course, they are for his eyes only.

Because to Rafayel you are the most captivating work of art he’s ever seen, and he will not share this side of you with the rich schmucks that can afford his art.

Caleb

Caleb finds out about your new hobby during one of his visits to Linkon. Instead of heading to his apartment in Skyhaven, he came over to your apartment for a change of pace.

When he walks into your apartment, he is immediately greeted by the pole you had installed in your living room.

He playfully raises his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he says, “I didn’t know you have this in you pipsqueak.”

You shrug and say, “I’m not a kid anymore Caleb.”

He slowly eyes you up and down. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. How exactly did you start this new hobby?”

As you explain that you got into pole dancing for fun and strength building Caleb is nodding along with your reasoning.

“Strength building huh? Show me what you’ve learned so far princess.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. But you eventually agree then go change into the performance outfit that gives you the most confidence.

Caleb is already feeling flustered when he sees the skimpy outfit you changed into. He has tried not to act on his long held crush but today may push him past his limit.

As you stretch you wonder if this is crossing the line for what is acceptable to do with a childhood friend/pseudo brother figure. Although you’ve denied it on multiple occasions, your feelings for Caleb lost their innocence well before this moment.

You grab your bluetooth speaker and turn on some music. As you lock gazes with Caleb you feel like this is the point of no return.

Caleb looks suspiciously comfortable seated on your living room couch, thighs spread wide and arms resting on the back of the sofa.

You gaze trails away from him as you close your eyes to get yourself into the zone. After taking a deep breath, you begin to strut around the pole. You seamlessly transition into a routine that you’ve practiced multiple times. But today it feels different, somehow more intimate because Caleb is watching you.

You lose yourself in the music as you climb the pole and twirl slowly down it. You feel so seductive in this moment as you lock eyes with Caleb and take in his reaction.

Caleb was already attracted to you because how could he not be? But tonight, he is struggling to hold back his possessive urges to stake his claim on you. In his mind, you have always been his and tonight he’s going to make sure you know it.

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your routine before he activates his evol and pulls you right into his lap. His violet eyes were filled with lust as he takes in the surprised look on your face.

You are shook to say the least. Caleb doesn’t use his evol on you often, and when he has it was never for something like this. The tension between you two is thick as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I take it that you liked the show?”

“I’m sure you can feel how much I enjoyed it princess. From now on think I’ll be crashing at your place whenever I’m in town,” he says before pulling you into a messy kiss.

Xavier

Xavier finds out about your new hobby from overhearing a conversation you were having with Tara and Simone.

From the brief snippets he heard, it seemed like something you were really excited about. It made him wonder why you haven’t mentioned it to him yet. Since you two talk practically every day there have been plenty of opportunities to do so.

A few weeks pass before Xavier feels like he’s given you enough time. He decides to bring it up while you two laze around his apartment.

“I heard you talking to your coworkers about your new hobby.”

You choke on your boba tea.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah,” he answers breezily. “What is it?”

“I’m learning how to pole dance. It utilizes multiple muscle groups and I like how it makes me feel.”

Xavier is shocked but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “How does it make you feel?”

You whisper out “Strong…and beautiful.”

Xavier hums lightly at your answer.

“Are you allowed to record yourself in the classes you take?”

“I would have to check. But, I had a pole installed in my apartment a few days ago.”

A small smile appeared on Xavier’s face. “Can you show me your moves bunny?”

You send a flirtatious smile his way before standing up and walking towards his front door.

Let’s just say that Xavier is mystified by your hips. You show out for him just to see what causes him to lose his composure. It happens to be the moment that you slide down the pole, proceed to stand up and swivel your hips in a figure eight motion that does it.

Xavier flashes over to the pole, grabs you, then sits back on the couch while holding you in his lap. “Continue dancing,” is all he says in the commanding tone that makes your heart quiver. When you look in his eyes you realize you may have pushed him too hard.

You gyrate in his lap as you hold his gaze, charmed by his blue eyes that have darkened with lust.

His thumbs are digging into your hips, holding you in place. As if you’re trying to escape.

Xavier would 100% whisper some nasty shit into your ear while you continue to grind on him. Once he’s had enough let’s just say that your bed frame and pussy never recovered ♡.

[greengoblinswifey]

Safe Haven—Hwang In-ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— The violence of the games leave you pondering—you don’t want to die a virgin and you ask the one man who you trust and who’s always saved you for help. Based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his early 50s) mentions of death, mentions of virginity, virgin!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, fluff, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

The first time you met Young-il, he saved your life.

The second time, he did it again.

By the third time, you stopped questioning it.

The games were a nightmare, a twisted sequence of death where survival felt more like a borrowed moment than a right. But through it all, Young-il had been there, his sharp eyes catching danger before you even saw it, whether it be saving you from other players or having your back in each game. You didn’t know why he did it, but you trusted him. In a place where trust was a gamble, you took the risk.

Tonight, the two of you sat in the corner of the dormitory, backs against the cold metal bunks. Most of the other players had settled into uneasy sleep, but you couldn’t, not with the weight of potential death pressing down upon you.

“You should get some rest,” Young-il murmured beside you.

You shook your head, fingers twisting in the hem of your thin uniform. “I can’t.”

Silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You glanced at him, taking in the way the dim lighting flattered his chiseled face. He was older than you, more composed, like he had seen enough of the world to understand it in ways you never could.

And yet, he was still here. Still surviving. Still saving you.

“Young-il,” you said as you took a breath.

He turned his head slightly, watching you. You swallowed hard, fingers tightening. “I don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I’m scared, what if I die? What if I die without experiencing anything. I want you to take my virginity,” you said, out of breath.

Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe, or something softer. But his face remained unreadable, his body still. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease.

Instead, he simply asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That was the truth. You didn’t know him outside of the game, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that if this was your last chance to experience something human, something real, you wanted it to be with him. He made you feel safe and cared for.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said after he studied you for a long moment.

No hesitation, just understanding, exactly what you needed in the moment.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw, his touch soft, as if waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t pull away, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to do this because you’re scared,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. “I want to.”

From your lips, he kissed his way down, trailing soft touches along your jaw, your throat, the slope of your shoulder. Every kiss felt delicate, like he was memorizing you in pieces. His hands remained careful, never pushing, always waiting for your silent permission.

When he reached the hem of your uniform, he paused, meeting your gaze again. “I want you to tell me if anything feels wrong. If you want to stop.”

“I will,” you nodded, your breath shaky.

Slowly, he peeled away the thin fabric, revealing your naked body to the cool air. But there was no hunger in his gaze, no rush. Just admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your waist, his touch sending warmth through your pussy. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it, making sure you felt how much this meant—not just to you, but to him too.

His hands skimmed over every inch of you, his lips following, never leaving a space untouched. And when he moved lower, when he pressed one last kiss to your stomach, his voice was a quiet promise against your skin.

“I’ll take care of you, angel.”

He grabbed under your thighs, making your legs sit on his shoulders before he delved into the exquisite cuisine before him that was your wet pussy. “You taste amazing,” he murmured, slipping a finger inside your tight hole.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair as his efforts sped up and your cheeks heated as you heard the faint sound of your pussy wet and squelching. You prayed none of the other players could hear.

“T-that feels so good,” you moaned, softly.

Young-il moaned into your pussy as his tongue flicked your clit, the vibrations making you squirm under his touch. He ferociously sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue before slipping in another finger making you feel full and writhe in the feeling of your g spot being constantly toyed with. You clenched tightly around his fingers, slapping a hand over your mouth to contain your moans.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, staring up at you.

You complied with his request, your hands grasping his dark hair he had as he held you down and continued eating your pussy through your high. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mind became foggy and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

After you caught your breath, he kissed you from your pussy, to your stomach, up your chest, sucking on your breasts then your cheeks, your lips then to your forehead, muttering praises in between. “So beautiful, angel. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He pulled his bottoms down slowly, his hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen and you bit your lip seeing the large package he carried.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped, softly, staring at how hard, long and thick he was. If his fingers could barely fit, how would that? It looked like he would tear you apart.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be intimidated,” his deep voice said, “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He pumped his cock a few times, spreading the pre cum on his glistening head before hovering above you, his eyes on yours as he used it to rub all over your entrance. You moaned his name softly as he teased you, your body shuddering as he began slapping the tip on your clit.

“I’m about to start, it might be a bit uncomfortable at first. If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop,” he muttered, quietly.

You nodded slowly and took his time inside you, eyes locked with yours, watching every reaction, every flicker of feeling that crossed your face. “You’re perfect, made just for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. His kisses trailed along your neck and shoulders each one drawing soft, involuntary moans from you.

As he went inside you, inch by inch, your nails dug into his back, his big cock stretching you by the second. You couldn’t even speak, feeling the wind knocked out of you as he was half way in, pushing past the barrier inside your pussy.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asked, ceasing movement inside you.

You nodded frantically, jaw agape.

He reached between your bodies, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he began thrusting slowly. He hissed in pleasure as your tight pussy gripped his dick, each time he went in and the back out, he was soaked in your juices.

“So wet for me. Absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

He gave you time to adjust, to feel every moment as his hold on you tightened and when you whispered, barely louder than a breath, asking him to “go deeper”, his control wavered, and a new depth of intensity overtook him. His grip on you tightened as his strokes deepened, and his eyes darkened with a desire that matched your own.

You bit your lip, containing your moans as you felt him practically in your guts and he was only half way in. Soft praises slipped from him in between breaths, the words laced with emotion as he murmured, “You feel incredible, I don’t want this to end.” You didn’t want it to end either. Each whispered word made you feel seen, safe, protected, and deeply wanted, it was exactly why you chose him.

He stared into your eyes as he hovered above you, his voice a soothing murmur against your neck as he urged, “Cum for me angel, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” As your orgasm hit you like a truck, you felt the wave of warmth and release, the feeling having you in the clouds as though you were high on ecstasy, his name slipping from your lips in soft, whispers. Your entire body convulsed and his strokes slowed as he whispered gentle praises, his touch filled with tenderness.

As he watched you come down from cloud nine, his gaze softened. “You took me so well, angel. I’m so proud of you.” Even though he could see the tiredness in your eyes, the spark in his hadn’t dimmed. With a gentle shift, he turned you onto your stomach, drawing your ass up to him. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, as he moved again, pulling you back on his cock, each slow thrust reassuring you that he wasn’t done cherishing you yet.

Holding you close, he thrusted slowly at first, ensuring you felt every throb of his cock and every gentle movement of his cock dragging along your walls.

“You’re perfect, my beautiful girl,” he murmured. When you let out a soft gasp, he grinned, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “You look so sexy with your ass in the air,” he said, his voice low. “Completely mine.”

You felt him lean closer, his lips beside your ear as he whispered, “I need you to cum on my cock again.” His hand drifted to your waist, holding you steady as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you said, overstimulation taking precedence.

He tilted chin to the side so you could look back at him, “You can do it, angel. Be a good girl for me.” His words were all the encouragement you needed, and as you gave in, squirting on his cock, his own quiet moans echoed with yours.

You clenched tightly around his cock lodged inside your pussy and it triggered his own intense orgasm. He bit down gently on your shoulder, thrusting slowly as ropes of his hot load filled you to the brim. “That’s it, take my cum. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, Young-il,” you moaned softly, your body shaking from the intensity of it all.

Your heartbeat, once wild and frantic, had settled into something calmer. You lay there, still catching your breath, and Young-il hadn’t moved, not away from you, at least as he emptied his cum inside you.

Slowly, he pulled out, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your body, reminding you that you were safe with him. You winced slightly at the sudden emptiness, and his eyes flickered with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “It was perfect.”

His expression softened, relief washing over his face. He reached for his shirt, and used it to clean you up carefully.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee, then your hip, then your abdomen. “Took me so perfectly. You’re beautiful.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, watching him as he continued to worship you in the quietest, sweetest ways.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed another kiss to your collarbone.

He stilled at that, lifting his head so you could see the way his gaze softened. “No need to thank me,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re mine.” A pause, filled with nothing but warmth. “And you deserve to be cherished.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could respond, he pulled you into him, wrapping you in his arms, tucking you against his. His lips pressed against your temple, then your forehead, then your nose. Sweet, lingering kisses.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what.”

You sighed, melting into him, feeling safer than you had in weeks. His fingers traced along your spine in slow, soothing patterns, his presence lulling you into something close to peace.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips before resting his chin atop your head. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with his arms around you, holding you like you were something precious, something worth protecting, you believed him.

[thechaoticcherub]

oooh i’m so excited you’re taking requests! can you do one where joel makes reader call him daddy a bunch? and just like…fiiiilllthy dirty talk 🤩

ah! A request!! Thank you!!!!

Say It

Pairing: Daddy!Joel x reader

Summary: No plot. Just fucking.

Warnings: 18+ please, daddy kink, fingering, begging, light smacking, mocking, humiliation, vague degradation, pet names, pussy pronouns, pussy smacking

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: I didn't really edit this at all and just kinda spewed it out! Enjoy!!!

Wanna read something specific for Joel Miller? Send me a request!!

“Say it,” Joel was holding your jaw in his hand and his voice was gentle but uncompromising. You looked up at him, your heart was racing. You desperately wanted to say it, there was a flood in your panties at the mere suggestion of it that proved that you wanted to. You were nervous though. Nervous to let go of control in such an intimate way.

  Joel’s thick fingers dug into your cheeks, “C’mon, sweet girl, I know you wanna say it…I can see that you’re drippin’ onto my floor.” Joels eyes darted down to between your legs. You were kneeling on the ground in front of him, completely naked, knees splayed out. Joel had guided you through removing every piece of clothing in front of him. 

Take your shirt off, babygirl, lemme see those tits. Now your pants, go on, don’t be shy, darlin’. Panties too. You’re makin’ a mess of ‘em anyway. 

You had shakily done as you were told and knelt in front of him while he stood before you, clothed, towering over you, imposing. That was when he suggested it and it knocked your breath out, not because it was really shocking but because you wanted it so bad. Joel had consistently told you what to do, called you ‘babygirl’, read you stories to fall asleep to, instructed you on how to pleasure him. The word seemed obvious but the subject had never been broached until now. You craved it. Joel had given a simple instruction but the word at the end had been something you had daydreamed about and he knew it. As you had sat, waiting for more instruction from him, naked and trying not to be ashamed of yourself Joel had smiled knowingly, his eyes roaming over you.

I want you to beg for it tonight, beg your Daddy. Your eyes had gone wide and all voice had gone out of you. You just stared up at him, leaking with need onto the floor. That was when he had grabbed your jaw and forced you to look up at him. Now he was looking down between your legs, bending slightly. 

“If you’re goin’ to drip like that, you’re goin’ to start doin’ what you’re told. Now say it.” He gave your jaw a little shake. 

“P-please, Daddy” You managed to squeak out. Joel crouched down in front of you so he was more level with you, his hand still holding your jaw. 

“Now, see here, Princess,” He started, studying your face. “I know you can beg better than that.” he said, his breath whispering across your skin, giving you shivers. “An’ I aint goin’ to tell you again.” He added. Joel’s free hand wandered up to your breast, his pointer finger traced around your nipple in a slow, lazy circle. Your whole body ticked upward, reaching towards the feeling of his touch. 

“Daddy, please, I need it. I need you to touch me, please, please I’ll do anything.” You let the words spill out of your mouth, trying not to think about how slutty you sounded or him. There was something so vulgar about being completely nude, on your knees, on display for him while he stood in front of you, flannel sleeves rolled up, belt buckle still closed, even his hunting knife was still tucked into a loop on his belt. 

Joel pursed his lips in mock sympathy, “Awww, babygirl…” he said, “Is she achin’ for her Daddy’s touch?” He asked. Your eyes fell down in shame as you nodded. Joel’s thick fingers tightened again, “Look at me,” he growled. You couldn’t force your eyes up to meet his stern, brown ones. His hand loosened on your jaw only to give your cheek a quick slap, “Babygirl, focus here, focus on your Daddy and do what you’re told.” He grabbed your jaw again, thumb pressing into one cheek and his fingers into the other. 

You forced your eyes up to meet his, Joel’s face softened slightly. “That’s my good girl,” He purred. His other hand reached down, “Alrigh’ I’m gunna touch that leaky pussy just to see how wet you are.” He informed you. You nodded and his hand went down between your spread knees and up to the lips of your pussy. 

“Holy hell, girl!” He laughed, “You’re soakin’,” You shuddered as Joel’s fingers stroked along your pussy lips. “Like I said, drippin’ all over my floor.” he cooed as his fingers languidly teased along your slit. 

“Daddy!” You whined, pressing your hips down. He pulled his hand away bringing it up in front of his face, looking at the mess all over his hand. 

“Uh-uh,” He shook his head. “You stay still, keep your eyes on Daddy, and get beggin’,” he instructed. Joel kept your jaw in his hand, holding you to make you  keep looking at him while he sucked your slick off of his fingers, relishing the taste, relishing that you were desperate for more. 

“Please, Daddy! I need your fingers in my pussy-”

“In your leaky, needy pussy, babygirl.” He corrected. You whined at the vulgarity but you knew you had to say it. 

“In my leaky, needy pussy! Daddy! Please! Daddy I want it!” You cried. Joel nodded,

“I hear ya, babygirl. I know.” he said, his finger traced one of your nipples again and then trailed down your tummy towards your pussy. Your stomach twitched, your pussy clenched. 

“Please! I just… need it so bad, Daddy! She’s aching, Daddy!” You felt a sob forming in your throat. Joel let out a throaty chuckle, his finger tickled over your pubic bone. 

“You love callin’ me Daddy, dont ya?” he asked. You nodded vigorously. “Words. And eyes on me, babygirl.” he said. 

“Yes! Yes Daddy! I love calling you Daddy!” Your eyes met his and he nodded slowly as his finger dibbed into your slit. He started to circle your clit and you knew you would be a goner soon. 

“You like giving up all your control to your Daddy?” he asked, leaning in towards you and pressing his forehead against yours, still crouched down, fingers circling your clit in a dizzying way. 

“Yes,” you whined, you felt your orgasm mounting inside you and you wanted to make sure you did everything right so he wouldn’t ruin your orgasm. The circles around your clit tightened, you clenched, longing for more but unable to ask for it with how focused you were on chasing your orgasm. Your breath burned through you, your cunt was twitching and you could feel your clit twitching under his finger. You needed to come, you could feel tears in your eyes as his finger stroked your closer and closer. Your knees shook under you and you let out a long whine of need,

“I can feel that pretty pussy is close, aint it?” Joel asked. You nodded. “Ask Daddy if you can come.” he instructed. 

“Please, Daddy, can I come? Please! I’m so close…it’s…please!” You tried to hold off, you tried to wait until he told you you could but his thick fingers stroking around and around your clit, swiping over it occasionally were relentless and you couldn’t hold off any longer. Your orgasm shook through you and it was clear he felt you coming as you clenched on nothing. You bit your lip to keep from crying out as the orgasm washed over you and you rolled your hips against his fingers. Joel rubbed your clit through it until you were shaking,

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You are…in a lot of trouble, little miss.” He chastised. Before you came down completely from your high, his thick fingers smacked your overly sensitive clit and you squealed, nearly collapsing. You pressed your knees together and sat back on your feet.

“Uh-uh, you’re aint gettin’ away that easy. Lie back, spread your legs for Daddy. I gotta punish you.” Joel’s voice was gruff and strained and your heart sped, 

“No, Daddy! I’ll be good! I’m sorry!” You whined. 

“I hear that you’re sorry but that ain’t good enough.  Daddy’s going to make sure that pussy is sorry for coming without permission. Lay back. Legs spread. Now.”

[gracie-eilish]

the prettiest girl in the whole wide world🥹

this was requested, thank you for the request babydoll☺️

an: this is for all the besties who are letting billies hair grow on them! while i can’t not drool over billie for long, i did in fact cut my own hair recently so that when i blow dried it, it resembled hers specifically🫣 (like i pulled up the oscar’s photo at my appt. and everything😭😂) so i too will mourn the long hair, but likeeeeeee 🤭🤭🤭 billie’s too pwetty for me to mourn for too long!

alsooooo, i’ve been yappppppping about it all weekend on here but in all seriousness, i feel like she’s just really stepping into herself and getting more comfy with that, and if her hair is helping with that, then im the happiest girl in the world for her:) as a fellow 22/23 year old figuring herself out, i feel for her🥹

warnings: reader being a bittttt dramatic, sad billie for like two seconds, allusion to smut🫣, this story is not meant to be hating on her hair‼️ it’s just meant to be silly so pls don’t take it too seriously! not a warning but claudia’s in here! i don’t see enough of her in fics, so future mrs. finneas is here today!

It had been a long night of fun and incredible performances and you and Claudia were buzzing with anticipation waiting for your lovers to come out. Being the true rockstar girlfriends you were, the two of you had been sitting together towards the back in a little VIP section with the other performers families and friends.

“They’re gonna be playing on the same stage as him,” I stated in shock as Sting continued to perform. Claudia laughed at my starstruckness in agreement. Claudia being the vet rockstar girlfriend she is was used to the frequent celebs and living legends, while you on the other hand were still a little starry eyed.

Regardless, the two of you had been having a fun evening. But as their performance drew closer, you both looked nervous. You knew why you were nervous, but why was Claudia?

As Sting himself introduced your girlfriend and her brother, the crowd erupted in cheers, making you giggle in pride as everyone loved on them.

You looked over at Claudia and smiled before turning your attention back to the stage as Billie started to speak. But something caught your eye.

“Claud what’s going on with her bangs?” You asked with a small giggle, figuring it was from your girlfriend was scootering around backstage instead of running a brush through her long hair like you usually would before her tour shows.

Claudia continued singing along, having not heard you, or so you thought. Claudia pretended not to hear because she was one of the first to see Billie earlier today after she cut her hair. She knew I would love it, I was just a little startled at sudden changes no matter how small. And I was in love with her long dark hair, and everyone knew it. I always hand a hand running though it, and I was always the one braiding it before her shows.

As Billie continued to bless the crowd with her vocals on Wildflower, I was distracted for a second by the echoing backing vocals coming from the crowd, making me a bit emotional. But my attention went right back to her hair when I looked back at Billie.

“Claudia… did she cut her hair?!” You bumped her hip and looked at her with wide eyes. She turned to face you and nodded with an ambiguous look in her eyes. Did you love it? Did you hate it? She couldn’t tell.

“When did she do that??” You asked with a giggle, and Claudia sighed out a laugh herself. Of course your first concern was with her schedule. You knew today was a busy, fast paced day and could not imagine Billie having a second to breathe let alone get her hair done.

You looked back over at the siblings as they started their next song but now all you could see was her hair. The once pin straight, long layers, were now a textured mix of waves and shorter layers, with some more framing around her face. As Billie sang her heart out, your mind was conflicted.

You loved the long shiny hair… but this new look… was also kinda hot.

Claudia looked back over at you and saw that thinking look in your eye. She threw an arm around your shoulder and shook it a bit before leaning down to giggle and say,

“It’s just hair babes. And if it makes you feel better, I have zero clue what Finneas has been doing with his lately.” That sent you into a fit of laughter, both of you doubled down cackling. You then threw your own arm around Claudia’s waist as they started “Birds of a Feather”.

“I know, I know. I’m being a little crybaby. But I’m gonna miss the blowout!” You said with a dramatic pout.

The two of you danced around, pointing at Billie and Finneas as you sang along to the infamous song, before you were being escorted backstage by your security.

Your heart was pounding. How were you going to react up close? I mean god she’s so pretty, but what about the new style? You love her always and as her girlfriend love everything she does, so this was a new feeling for you. A normal one, but new.

The two of you flopped down on some couches in her dressing room waiting for the pair to head backstage. The clock on the wall seemed to scream at you with every tick. Your leg bounced and you stomach started to hurt. Why did you feel like this??

The feeling immediately passed the second the door opened, and your pretty girl walked through with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Babyyyyy!!!!” She cried out, walking straight to you with open arms. You giggled as she smothered you in a bear hug while pressing kisses all over your face.

“Hi my love!” You said quietly, leaning back to get a good look at her.

“So.. I cut my hair today.” She said in her infamous little voice, making your nerves dissipate immediately. You sighed with a warm smile at her. Yeah, you couldn’t stay conflicted for long.

“I noticed my love,” You threaded your fingers through the layers, your smile only growing.

“You’re thinking about me at the oscar’s last year aren’t you,” Billie said with a sad smile.

“Maybe! It looked so pretty that night, can you blame me?” You giggled, but your giggles softened when Billie’s giggles didn’t match yours.

“Hey,” you said, sitting her down on the couch, Claudia and Finneas had already went back to his dressing room leaving you alone.

“How did I react when I came home from school one semester to you with blonde hair?” You asked softly.

“You said you missed my green highlighter-ness,” she said with a chuckle. Remembering how silly I was acting. “But then you told me I looked like sleeping beauty,” she said with a blush.

“And how did I react when you chopped it all off?”

“You kinda giggled in shock and pretended to be mad, but you fell asleep with your whole hand stuck in my hair, scratching my scalp.” Her smile was growing now.

“And when you took away my beloved red roots?” You said with a theatrical groan, officially getting Billie’s smile back.

“You moped around for like days about that babe,” She said with a chuckle.

“I did not!!” You softly hit her shoulder, giggling at her very true statement, knowing how much you loved the red.

As her laughter died down, you pushed her bangs out of her eyes and held her cheeks before kissing her nose.

“And what do I always tell you after all that?”

Billie flushed furiously, something only you could do and took great pride in.

“Mmmm I don’t think I remember what you told me…” She said in her little voice, looking around goofily. “I think you need to remind me.”

“Well, I have always told you, and will continue to tell you, no matter what your hair looks like, you my love *cheek kiss* are officially *other cheek kiss* the prettiest *forehead kiss* most beautiful *nose kiss* more perfect *corner of her lips* girl in the whole wide world.”

Billie’s cheeks hurt from the combined flush and from how hard she was smiling.

“So…. you like it?” She said sheepishly.

“Ok duh, you look so fucking hot. You could wear a potato sack and I’d still be on my knees.” Billie cackles at your statement, pulling you onto her lap to hug you.

“Thank you lovey. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was doing this. The opportunity was there and I’ve been wanting to try something new with my hair lately, so I went for it.”

“Baby, you don’t ever have to apologize for something like this. If it makes you happy, and makes you feel good… and it makes you look this fucking hot, I’m all for it sexy girl.” Billie smiled before leaning in to kiss you properly.

Her hand rested on your waist while the other snuck down to your ass, squeezing lightly. Your hands moved from their spot on her shoulder up to her hair, threading through the layers and pulling lightly making Billie groan into the kiss.

She pulled away with a smirk, “Oh so you really like it,” she said before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Mmmm hmmmmm.” You nodded biting your lip, a sparkle in your eyes.

“You wanna show me how much you like it mama?” She whispered, her other hand snaking down to your ass.

You didn’t even have to speak, just one look from you going from doe eyes to ravenous and the two of you packed up and ran out of there so fast, where you inevitably spent all night showing her how much you love it.

As the two of you laid in bed later that night, Billie had her head resting on your bare chest, her hand on your tummy. She felt your fingers playing with her hair slow down and your breathing start to even out a bit, and making her smile… and then giggle at the feeling of your hand tangled up in her hair as it always was.

an: if you couldn’t tell, it’s grown on me al lot🫣🤭 she seriously could wear a potato sack and she’d still look so beautiful🤭☺️

[daechwitatamic]

Cinnamon || KMG {teaser} - coming Feb. 7!

(banner by @sailorsoons)

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

Cinnamon mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny for Reasons), reader x male oc for a while fluff smut angst best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, idiots to lovers all apply NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

WC: 19k teaser wc: 900

Warnings: language, recreational drinking and overdrinking, a brief mention of throwing up from a hangover, angst and hurt feelings, not miscommunication but definitely refusal to communicate, kissing (some with mg and some with a male oc), arguments, reader and mingyu are both imperfect people who make mistakes and do things wrong... theyre not bad or toxic people but their choices can be hurtful... theyre humans who mess up have to just do better going forward, quick and prosey piv smut

teaser warnings: language, angst, drunkenness

a/n: beta'd by @sailorsoons and @eoieopda smooch smooch love yall

--

Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake.

“You better watch out, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says from the couch, and your blood runs as cold as that field of ice, because you know he’s about to start some shit. “Sunny got flowers from her lover today. That guy’s coming for your woman.”

You’re opening your mouth to reprimand him - tell him to shut up, or something - but Mingyu beats you to it.

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply. 

All that ice evaporates in an instant like it was never there.

“My lover,” you echo with a frown, when you can speak again. “Don’t say it like that, you weirdo.”

“Well, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asks innocently.

You head for your bedroom with a roll of your eyes. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“That means yes,” he sing-songs, and you slam your door shut.

Wonwoo’s voice floats through the door. “Who pissed off Sunshine?”

Mingyu responds with a growl, “Who do you think?”

–

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unspooling with cricket song and a smattering of flickering stars above you. His arm touches yours and you can feel his chest shift as he breathes deeply.

You feel content - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those blinking stars. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your light goes out, just like theirs. 

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek. 

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You startle awake, heart pounding, and you’re immediately furious. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, punching your mattress once. 

The pathetic truth is you dream about that night in undergrad all the time - you and Mingyu on one of the last nights before summer break, leaving a party together and laying in the grass behind the advising department building watching the constellations rotate above you. 

The pathetic truth is the dream never follows the script, always turning the scene sideways, making it something different than what it was.

The pathetic truth is that Mingyu had been blacked out, more fucked up than you’d ever seen him, and you’d laid in the grass because you physically couldn’t keep him upright any further than that and you’d had to text Wonwoo to come help you. 

You hadn’t said anything to Mingyu - at least not something meaningful. You might have said please don’t puke on me, or god, you weigh a ton, or how many jaegerbombs did you do? 

He had said he loved you - had slurred it, eyes closed. 

You had laughed, even though it had sent a dagger through your chest. “Okay, Romeo,” you’d teased, and checked your phone to see if Wonwoo was on his way to help. 

“I do,” he’d insisted, one hand patting the grass next to him like he was trying to find you. “Sunny, I love you.”

You didn’t know how he meant it - still don’t know, to this day, because you don’t think he even remembers saying it and you’d been too afraid to bring it up.

What were you supposed to say? Hey, when you were blacked out last night, you said you love me… do you mean like… platonically… or…? 

God. The idea of it is just as humiliating now, years later, as it had been in the weeks that followed that night. And though he’s said it regularly since then, he never said it like that, and you never pushed it. 

Now, awake and furious and sad at three in the morning, you grab your phone and climb out of bed. 

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s only making this worse for you. But you make your way on light steps through the dark and silent apartment to Mingyu’s door and push it open.

Is it mithridatism, this thing you do? Microdosing on the poison so that a full dose won’t kill you? No, that isn’t right. A full dose of Mingyu won't kill you. It’s an absence of Mingyu that you need protection from.

You climb into his bed and poke at his calves with your toes until he grunts as he wakes. Then, as he gathers his senses, he rolls to look at you over his shoulder.

“Bad dream?” he asks, voice kind of breathy with sleep.

“Mhm.”

He rolls the rest of the way, lifts his arm so you can scoot a little closer. You breathe easier immediately. It makes no sense that the thing that hurts you is also the only thing that makes you feel better. 

“Won’t your lover object to you getting in bed with me?” he asks, and you can hear the edge in his voice as clear as day.

You let out a single, wry ha. He’s got a point, but Daeyoung isn’t your boyfriend, you aren’t exclusive, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

--

Welcoming to the world the fic I have lovingly dubbed Cinnamingyu!!! Coming Friday, February 7th!!!

[angstywaifu]

Everyone Has Secrets - Aaric Graycastle

Request: Aaric x reader where the reader is a rider but also a princess of another Provence, but she kept it a secret from everyone because she ran away to be a rider to fight venin because she didn’t want her people to suffer. A/N: This is my first time writing for Aaric so I hope you guys like it. I've seen a few requests come in for him now so I'll definitely be working on them and hope to improve my writing for him.

Warnings: The below contains spoilers for Onyx Storm. If you have not read Onyx Storm do not read the below!

Masterlist | Support Me

“What’s up with you and Aaric?” Sloane whispers to me as Devera asks Violet about her trip.

“Nothing. Why’s that?” I ask as I look up at her.

“Because he’s been staring at you since he sat down. It’s like he’s trying to read your mind.” She informs me.

I turn my head and meet Aaric’s piercing green eyes. And Sloane is right. The way he’s looking at me is like he’s trying to figure something out. And it’s like me looking at him confirms what ever it is he needs, quickly turning his attention back to the front of the room. What was that about?

“Maybe he was trying to see if we were ok? He’s been gone a while.” I whisper back with a shrug.

She shakes her head. “No. This is something else.”

Devera turns her attention back to the rest of us, putting an end to our conversation. It doesn’t take long for me to feel Aaric’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn to meet them this time.

Something had clearly happened while he was away with Violet and the squad she had put together. But I had no way of telling what it was.

Throughout the rest of our classes I feel Aaric’s eyes on me every now and then. But I couldn’t pin point why. And it honestly had me on edge. I’d never seen Aaric like that towards anyone since our time here. I had planned to ask him what his problem was, but his seat at our table remains empty during dinner.

“We’re going to go train, want to come with?” Sloane asks me as we stand up from our table.

I shake my head. “I’m going to have an early one tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I tell her as I back away towards the dorms.

She just nods and lets me go, knowing Aaric’s weird mood towards me had put me on edge. I was glad she’d opted for the let me be approach rather than distract me with training or plotting how we could find out what was going on.

As I push through the door to the dorms, someone grabs me from behind, causing me to yelp which echoes in the empty hall. I turn around to fight back, grasping a dagger in my hand which hangs in the air once I see the familiar green eyes I’d felt on me all day. Green eyes that feel like they’re staring into my soul.

I open my mouth to ask him what the hell is going on, but he just drags me up the stairs to the first year floor and down to his room. He shoves me inside before closing the door behind us, leaning back against it to block any attempt I might make to leave.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, wanting to know why his behaviour towards me had changed so much since his trip.

“Seems you’ve been keeping secrets. Princess.”

My eyes go wide at his words, my dinner threatening to make an appearance. Shit. How the hell did he know? No one knew where I was from. Nowhere in Navarre knew who I was. Unless… shit.

“Everyone has secrets.” I say with a shrug, trying to play it off.

“Oh trust me, I know.” He replies cockily, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. What the hell did that mean. “And you probably would have gotten away with yours if I hadn’t gone with Violet.”

“What are you going on about?”

He pushes off the door and walks over to his desk. Going through the bag he was yet to unpack from his trip. He pulls out a frame, holding it out to me. I grasp it in my hands, turning it over as dread washes over me. Staring back at me is a painting of me with my parents done not long before I’d left. The family Id left behind to come and do something. To protect them from a war that would more than likely come our way one day. There was no way I could deny what Aaric had figured out.

“I always thought your eye colour was unique. Such an interesting shade of blue. Sometimes looking purple when the light hit it them right.” He tells me as he leans up against the desk, watching me take in the photo. “So you can probably guess the shock I got when we land in Hedotis, and we’re greeted by people with the same coloured eyes. The same ones I’ve been looking at since July. And then when I go looking around, I find this sitting on a desk.”

I look up at him, not sure what to say or do. I had thought my secret would be safe forever. No one here had ever been to Hedotis, and I honestly thought no one would ever go there. But now Aaric stood in front of me, waiting for answers.

“What are you going to do? Force me to go back? Go get whatever reward they want for my return?” I snap at him, shoving the painting back at him.

He shakes his head as he places the painting next to him on the desk. “Fuck no. I want to know why though. I have my reasons, but what are yours? Why make that big of a journey to come here of all places?”

His reasons? What the hell did that mean? Pretty sure it was going to be my turn to interrogate him after this at this rate.

“Because I didn’t want to sit back and do nothing.” I tell him as I walk over to his window, looking out over the forest below. “I was sick of us turning a blind eye to what could potentially come our way. Pretending that everything was fine and blissful. When over the ocean, people were dying. I needed to make a difference, even if my parents wouldn’t. All they cared about was marrying me off to make alliances. Give another province an heir that would make them allied to us. Even though we would never back them up if they needed help. I needed to do something.”

Aaric doesn’t say a word. Silence falling over us. I turn around to see him looking at me, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

“Good. Because honestly your people are kinda shit.” He jokes as he steps away from the desk to walk over to the door.

“Not so fast Aaric.” I say, causing him to turn and look at me with a cocked eyebrow. “Now it’s your turn. Why do you have your reasons?”

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲

when the pervy old man meets his match

tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan

hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later

your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.

“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”

“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”

you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”

“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”

cocky bastard.

“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”

“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”

“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”

Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”

you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.

“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”

a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.

“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”

Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”

fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.

“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“

you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face

“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”

no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”

a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”

“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”

“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.

“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”

he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”

“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”

Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”

you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”

fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.

“nah,” he lies too quickly.

you giggle. “liar.”

“shut up,” he mutters.

“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake—“

“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”

“like hell you could!”

your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”

Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”

your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.

“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”

you grip the sheets.

“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”

your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.

“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”

you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”

Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”

you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.

“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”

heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting

“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”

you exhale.

“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”

oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.

“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”

Stan huffs.

“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”

“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”

you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”

“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.

“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”

Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.

“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”

his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.

“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”

“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”

wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.

but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.

“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.

Stan swallows. “wh-what?”

you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”

his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.

“Stanley? you close?“

“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.

“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”

Stanley is so fucking close.

“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”

“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.

“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”

“you—fuck—you little—”

suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.

he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.

Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”

“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.

silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.

“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”

Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”

“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.

“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”

“but you put up a good fight, old man!”

he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”

“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”

Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”

[xobunni0]

𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 — Valentine day 1

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

౨ৎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡… shadow reminds you that even though he struggles to show it, his feelings for you aren’t going anywhere.

short one bc im sick 💔

the apartment was quiet, you and Shadow sat across from each other on the bed, legs loosely folded, a comfortable distance between you. the dim lighting cast a soft glow over his dark fur, highlighting the sharp edges of his features

but tonight, it was different

you had noticed it before how sometimes, no matter how close you were Shadow seemed miles away. it wasn’t coldness not exactly, but something deeper like he was carrying a weight that even you couldn’t reach.

and it had been happening more often lately.

the silence stretched on between you and Shadow, heavier than before. even after his quiet promise to try, there were moments when he still slipped away moments when his thoughts pulled him somewhere you couldn’t follow.

and it hurt.

it wasn’t something you wanted to admit, even to yourself. you knew Shadow wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate, and you had never expected him to be. but when he pulled away, when his eyes drifted past you like he wasn’t really there it made you wonder if you were fooling yourself. If what you had with him was real

or if he was just holding on out of convenience

you sat on the bed knees pulled up to your chest, watching him as he stared out the window. his posture was tense, his mind clearly somewhere else. the city lights reflected in his eyes, but you could tell he wasn’t seeing any of it

Shadow had always been distant. you knew that from the start. but knowing it and feeling it were two very different things

Shadow was beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence but not close enough to feel him. not in the way you wanted.

you had always been there for him. When he became lost in his head, you stayed. when his nightmares woke him in the middle of the night, you never asked questions you just reached for him letting him know he wasn’t alone. when he disappeared for hours, sometimes days, you never demanded explanations. you simply waited.

but how long could you keep waiting for something that might never come?

“You’re thinking too much again” Shadow said his voice pulling you from your thoughts

you glanced at him. he was looking at you now but not in the way you wanted. it was observation not intimacy. he could always tell when something was on your mind but he never reached for you first. never touched you just because he wanted to

you swallowed your fingers gripping the blanket. “Do you even care about me Shadow?”

the words felt heavier the moment they left your mouth. Shadow stiffened his red eyes narrowing slightly not in ange but in confusion.

“Why would you ask that?” he said

you exhaled, shaking your head. “Because you never show it” you admitted your voice quieter now. “I’m always here for you. Always. And I don’t expect you to change who you are but… sometimes I wonder if this even means anything to you. If I mean anything to you.”

Shadow was silent. His gaze flickered slightly, as if he was processing your words but the longer the silence stretchedthe more that ache in your chest deepened.

“I know you’re not the kind of person who says things outright,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I never needed you to say the words. But I need something Shadow. I need to know that you care, that I’m not just wasting my time hoping for something you’ll never give me.”

His jaw tightened and for a second, you thought he might look away. But then finally he spoke

“I do care” he said, his voice quieter than before. “More than you know.”

Your breath caught. “Then why don’t you show it?”

Shadow exhaled sharply his hand running over his quills. “Because I don’t know how,” he admitted, and for the first time, there was a rawness in his tone that startled you. “I’ve spent my life fighting, surviving. Affection isn’t something I’ve ever had let alone something I’ve learned to give.”

Your chest ached at the quiet confession.

“You could learn” you said gently. “I don’t need big gestures of love Shadow. I don’t need words. Just… something. Anything to let me know I matter to you as much as you matter to me.”

Shadow looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable behind his eyes. slowly hesitantly he reached out.

His hand brushed against yours fingers curling over your own not tightly, but on purpose. It was such a simple touch but from him it felt like everything.

Your breath hitched slightly as you squeezed his hand in return.

Shadow’s gaze softened just a little. “I’ll try” he said but this time, you believed him.

because tonight he was already starting.

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

[jschlautism]

i just called to say i love you

"…To say that the events of tonight were unexpected would be an understatement, and a large one at that."

notes: first oneshot & fic i've written in a while.. i didn't really proofread it all that much so forgive me if it's a bit messy. also, the reader is intended to be a content creator but i wasn't quite sure how to flesh that out + schlatt is older than the reader. this has like 1,028 words & is gender neutral

As you were getting ready for bed, having just hopped out of the shower, your phone had begun to ring. You honestly had no idea why you had brought it into the bathroom with you in the first place, you hadn’t been expecting anyone to reach out during your nightly routine. Letting a drawn out sigh slip from your lips, you wrap your towel around you and pick up the phone, checking to see who was calling. To your further surprise, it was John.. Or, Schlatt, as everyone knew him. You’d known him for a little while now, and you two had gotten quite close, but he rarely ever contacted you in any way other than messaging… Admittedly, you were concerned at the fact he had decided not to just text.

“John? Why are you calling me at this hour, did something happen?” You ask with worry lacing your words as they escape your mouth. Unsurprisingly, John snaps back with his usual snarky attitude. You knew he wasn’t really like that, he just liked to try and seem intimidating.

“What? Pff, no. Nothing happened, I just wanted to see if you were awake. Got somethin’ to say to ya.” You could practically hear the rolling of his eyes over the phone. You decide the best thing to do in this situation is to try and match his energy as if you two were recording a video. After all, he might actually be calling you for the purposes of a video, he has done that in the past, so you really can’t be sure.

“What, you gonna ask me your dumb bacon question again?” You shoot back at him, a playful tone dripping from your voice, a tone that you hope translates well over the phone. “Because we’ve already established that I’m taking the bacon.” You’d barely given him a chance to even answer your rebuttal before you had spoken again, but after you were done, you could hear him sigh. “No, that’s… Hey, wait, why are you in content mode now?” John seemed a bit confused now, clearly not realizing you assumed he was calling you for a video. You were both quiet for a moment or two, though it wasn’t really an uncomfortable silence. 

Eventually, you decide to speak up. “Hold on, were you not calling me for something related to your channel?” After you finished your sentence, you heard him let out a laugh from the other end of the line. In your defense, though, you genuinely couldn’t tell when the older man wanted to have a genuine conversation, since almost every time you two had spoken, he was usually in content mode himself. “Ha! No! I wanna talk to ya about somethin’, honest!” He forced his words through his laughter. “Seriously though, and this might be a bit.. odd, comin’ from me, but I just gotta tell you, I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act.” 

You raise a brow at this, though he can’t see it. Keep up the act? What was this about? “..What do you mean by that, J? You’re okay, right?” The worry returned to your words, betraying you as you tried to keep yourself in check. Picking up on this, John was quick to respond. “Yeah, yeah! I’m fine, just…” He sighs heavily. You’re sure he’s running his hand through that slightly curly hair of his. “Look, man, the more we hang out the more I realize that I… think I like you? Maybe?” You can hear him let out a groan, almost as if he’s embarrassed. You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head. “Seriously? That’s all this was about? You’re such a dork.” You respond with nothing but playful intent. In response to that, he huffs. “I’m not a dork, I’m… Okay, maybe I am a dork, but that’s besides the point. I think I like you and I was wondering if you felt the same..?” John got quieter as he spoke as he let his guard down and dropped the persona as a result of that.

Thinking about it, you had honestly had quite the crush on the older content creator for a good bit now. Not wanting the air to stay still for too long, you respond. “What if I do? Are you going to take me out to dinner first or what?” You laugh softly as you hear John practically choke on whatever he was drinking at your response, like he hadn’t been expecting you to even consider him at all. After recovering from his shock, he speaks up, quiet as ever. “I mean… uh.. I could? If you’d… actually want that, anyways.”

A smile creeps onto your face. How could such a big guy be so shy? You didn’t get it, but you did like it. “Of course I would, J.. I’m free whenever.” You then realize you’re still standing in the bathroom with nothing but a towel. “..Except for tonight. You caught me in the middle of my bedtime routine.” Like clockwork, John turns on his ‘charm’, as he calls it, which is really just the persona he uses. “Oh please, you would come outside and meet me at the flip of a dime, let’s be real here, toots.” You can hear him grin. This whole conversation suddenly feels like one of his Youtube ad reads. “No I wouldn’t, nice try. I’m freshly clean and about to get in bed.”

John looks at the clock on his computer. He realizes it is, in fact, late at night. “Tomorrow night, then?” He mumbles, somewhat defeated. He had really wanted to take you out to eat right then and there. He could only hope that tomorrow worked for you. Thankfully, his wish was granted as you responded to him. “Sure, just let me know when you’re on your way to get me?” He smiles to himself. “Yeah, sure thing.”

You two said goodnight and got off the phone. You let out a soft, content sigh as you set your phone down on the sink counter and get yourself dressed. You realized this could be the start of something great.

[vampzity]

stimulate me | J.WY

★ DAY ONE: VIBRATORS WITH WOOYOUNG ★

pairing: bf! wooyoung x f! reader

watching a movie with your boyfriend sounds a normal task right? Not when your new toy comes into play. Every time you lose focus of the movie, he’ll stop, but when you pay attention the speed only intensifies.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, literally no plot, smut, begging, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), fingering, praising, vibrator is used on reader, pet names (baby, good girl, sweet girl), wooyoung’s a jackass, marking, cursing

word count: 1.1k

You laid with your legs in your boyfriend’s lap, watching the movie intently as the gang began to escape their captivity. It was so interesting to you and you were looking forward to sharing this night with Wooyoung, as he’s been so busy at the company. He however, paid no attention to the movie— in fact he didn’t even care for it.

His mind was rushing with anticipation, excitement. Dirty thoughts coursing through him like an animal in heat. Every few seconds he’d glance at you, noticing how unaware you were. His dick twitched under his sweatpants every time he admired your body; the way your breasts were perky under your not-so-baggy top and how your thighs made your pajama shirts roll back slightly.

God what a perv.

“Everything okay Woo?”

He snapped out of his trance, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He got up from the couch, quickly retreating to the room. You paused the movie, sitting there confused as you looked down the hall.

“What are you doing? You’re interrupting movie night!” you crossed your arms, a bit annoyed at his sudden change in demeanor.

Wooyoung came back hurriedly, stuffing something into his pocket as he sat back on the couch next to you. You gave him a look, eyes falling to the crowded pocket that he failed to play off.

“What’s in the pocket?”

He laughed nervously, grabbing the remote from you and unpausing the movie. He pulled you closer to him by the waist, resting his chin against your shoulder and making the hairs stand up on your neck from his breathing. He pulled out a small purple vibrator; its head shaped like a rounded cube. Your eyes widened, meeting his as he lifted his head up.

You usually wouldn’t resort to buying anything sexual without telling Wooyoung. Only because he wanted to pay for any of your needs or desires, but you grow so needy in moments when he’s gone. You simply couldn’t help yourself.

“Bought a new toy without consulting me, hm?” He pulled your shorts, throwing them into the ground as you were left in only a tshirt and panties.

“Why don’t I test it out for you?”

He kissed your neck softly, spreading your legs slightly as he placed the vibrator in between your folds. You moaned softly at his touch, his hand holding your chin. A small smile crept on his face as he turned on the toy, the sudden feeling startling you.

“Watch the movie angel. Focus on it real good for me, yeah?”

He leaned closer to your ear, turning the setting to the highest possible. You let out a loud moan, your legs opening wider to allow more access to your sensitive bud.

“If you can’t, don’t bother asking me to cum. Understood?”

You nodded hesitantly, your breath becoming staggered as the vibrations went back to low. Wooyoung moved the toy around your bud, earning a small whimper escaping your lips. Your eyes fluttered as you tried to keep focus on the movie, but it felt so good.

You moaned quietly, feeling his lips peck your neck. He tilted your head slightly, allowing him more access to your sweet skin. His tongue swirled around your skin, sucking against it softly and leaving small red marks.

“Hmm good girl. Wanna cum badly, don’t you?”

You threw your head back in pleasure as he raised the setting, the toy practically pounding against your clit. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, moving it up and down as your moans grew louder. Wooyoung raised his eyebrow at you, turning off the vibrator and shooting you a stern look. He grabbed you by the chin, pulling your face to meet his eyes. He rolled his eyes, laughing in your face as you whined.

“I told you to pay attention to the movie, didn’t I?”

You nodded hesitantly, your head slowly turning back to the television. Wooyoung smiled, turning the vibrator back onto the lowest setting. Wet was an understatement— he could hear the creamy sounds of your cunt from where he sat, and boy did he want a taste.

With every passing scene, the setting got higher, making your moans louder. He pressed it harder against your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions.

“Tell me how it feels baby, use your words.” You looked at him for a second, his small nod making your knees buckle.

“Need more.”

That’s all he needed to hear. In that moment he could no longer give a crap about the shitty movie that played because all he wanted was you.

Wooyoung pulled you toward him, your body now facing him. He kissed your inner thigh, sucking on them softly to leave small red marks. He ripped off your underwear, throwing them to the floor.

“So fucking needy.” he cooed, sticking a finger inside of you. You whined in pleasure, the mix of the vibrations and his finger hitting your sweet spot being too much for you.

“You like that, don’t you?”

He looked up at you, watching as your mouth was left agape and nothing but small whimpers escaped it. You scrunched your eyes closed, feeling your stomach spasm at the sensations. Wooyoung pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it softly. He came up to you, pressing the vibrator against your nipple lightly. Your body jolted slightly, breathy moans filling the room.

“Woo,” you mumbled, your hand reaching up to grab his face.

You pulled him to you, your lips crashing against his as he let his fingers toy with your clit. Your nipples grew sore at the constant vibration, leading you to groan into each kiss. Wooyoung kissed your jawline, soon reaching your ear.

“Cum for me baby.”

His whisper felt like music to your ears and within seconds you came undone under him. Your body trembled, chest rising as you tried to catch your breath.

“That’s my sweet girl. Just like that.” He dropped to your legs, kissing your clit softly as he lapped up your juices.

You grinded softly against his tongue, attempting to push his head away. He turned the vibrator back on, placing it against your sensitive bud as his tongue fucked you. You cried out, begging him to stop as you felt the overstimulating pleasure build in your cunt. Little did you know, Wooyoung was far from done with you. He loved to play with you, tease you, see you reach new highs with his little mind games.

He turned the toy up a notch, pressing it harder against your clit. He moved it up and down, watching as you fell apart in front of him. This is exactly what he wanted, to undo your sweet soul just by his touch.

“So cute when you listen.”

Wooyoung grabbed the remote, pausing the movie and turning up the setting just one more time. You let yourself go another time, his tongue licking up the warm liquid that spilled out of you.

“Mm.. taste so good. Can’t wait to fuck this pretty cunt of yours baby.”

back to valentines masterlist

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