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lottiies · 6 months ago

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CRUSHING AND GREEDY

leon kennedy x fem puppy hybrid!reader

you’ve started feeling different about your owner, leon, as of late. cuddling and following him around all the time just isn’t enough, especially not with the way the spot between your thighs has been aching for him. leon isn’t immune to your antics, he’s weak for his sweet girl

cw: fem!reader, 5.2k wc, daddy kink, baths, small excerpt of jealousy on readers side, mentions of PMS symptoms (sore chest), tit massage, masturbation, unprotected p in v, blowjob, doggystyle, missionary, ass & clit spanking, manhandling, size difference, dumbification + praise, finger sucking, breeding

note: um…hi. bye. this is actually just pure filth LMAO i’m not joking don’t judge the pacing okay. not proof read i can’t read this again ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

bot version

for a hybrid who hit the jackpot by having the sweetest owner, you weren’t satisfied.

if someone searched for an example of the word ‘insatiable,’ you’d probably be on there. a pretty picture of you posing with your ears perked up and a pearly smile on your face.

leon had been through so many rough patches in his life, but he was mentally getting as better as he could get: he had turned away from depending on bitter tasting-alcohol, became a bit more comfortable admitting that he needed support, and didn’t have that sunken look in his eyes anymore.

anyway. point is, after his progress, he decided to get you. what could go wrong with a cute puppy hybrid who he wanted to dote on and have as a sweet companion? maybe one to curl up with and watch his favorite movies, someone to have so he wouldn’t come home to an empty house.

everything was fine the first month. you were clingy and affectionate, curling up by his side every night and following him around the house like a shadow with an eagerly wagging tail. how cute, he always thought. when he sat to watch his movies, you always either willingly sat on the floor and clung to one of his legs or sat on his lap to hug him, not even watching the movie yourself. all you really needed was for him to pat your head and kiss your forehead.

but you had been more…well, needy, as of late. clambering all over him 24/7 and chasing his lips. he’d always laugh breathlessly before gently pushing you away whenever he needed to take a breath, you’d pout at him all the while.

he didn’t get hard often prior to this happening, mostly because his libido was pretty low at this point. the most he would get was some morning wood or some random ones popping up time to time. healthy. he never had his face buried in some dirty videos now that he was older and had better things to do. give the guy a break, google and twitter wasn’t his forte.

but god almighty. you had his hormones rushing as if he was young and opening up a porn magazine for the first time. it felt taboo back then up until he strayed from religion. this time, it felt wrong because he was genuinely unsure if you knew how provocative you were being.

the worst thing about it is that you so shamelessly called him daddy. it was really cute at first! like yes, he’s taking care of you so it only made sense right? even if technically you were too old to be addressing him that way, he brushed it off, the nickname made him feel happy.

but the name had been paired with more…lewd acts of yours. his head started linking the term coming from your puckered lips with the heat in his stomach.

“y’smell so good, daddy!” you’d say as you buried your face against his chest and sniffed at him, squirming all over his lap. for fuck’s sake, his cock came to life.

“you’re so strong, daddy. but i feel like i never see you work out, how’d you get this much muscle?” you’d ask as you massaged his biceps with a starry-eyed look. then you’d chomp down on one like the bad girl you were. geez. it got him feeling all dirty.

you on the other hand, thought you were doing the right thing. you wanted him to like you beyond him pampering you. you couldn’t help it, leon was so nice and kind and handsome and doting and funny (not really) and attentive and strong. okay, way too many ‘ands,’ let’s stop there.

you didn’t see him as a mere caretaker anymore, you wanted him as your mate! he was the perfect candidate — strong, protective, caring, intelligent, and you could just sense that he’d get you knocked up first try.

he smelled so good all the time too, it made your clit throb every time you caught the scent. the concoction of his faint aftershave, strong cologne, and his natural scent was like some kind of aphrodisiac that reached your cunt faster than viagra could.

you had leon thinking with his dick more than his brain these past weeks. and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

every night, the minute he heard your steady breathing and the adorable sleepy noises you made, his hand was already slipping underneath the sheets to palm his cock, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. then his hand would tug down his boxers, sucking in a breath as he wrapped his hand around himself, gently bucking his hips up against it.

his thoughts were vivid, stimulating all his senses at once. smelling your natural scent mixed with the shampoo and soap he bathed you with. hearing you whine and call him daddy. feeling your hands paw at all parts of him and claw at his skin, the softness of your ass, tits, and thighs as he fondled you. tasting the flavored chapstick you put on your pouty lips every day, the salt on your skin, the sweetness of your cunt and what it wept. seeing your eyes roll back and drool dribble down your chin because you couldn’t even think enough to swallow. what a stupid pup. his pup.

and there were way too many memories fueling his fantasies.

park incident:

leon was a good owner, he took you new places to walk whenever he had the time. today was no different, he chose a beautiful park with a lake, just walking you around the vastness of it.

an hour passed, you were content. keyword, were. there was a woman coming over, a nice smile on her face and her eyes set on leon.

oh. hell no.

you were visibly mad and clung onto leon’s arm with an iron grip, trying to get him to walk you away from the direction of woman. but your attempt was like a feather, completely ineffective. your ears flattened against the top of you head.

don’t talk to him. don’t talk to him. don’t talk to him.

but the lady did, fluttering her lashes at your owner and asking him what breed you were. as if she actually fucking cared, that was probably just a conversation starter to get his number.

before you knew it, you were growling at her.

leon tugged at your collar, a nonverbal gesture as if to say: ‘stop that.’

“i’m so sorry, she’s usually the sweetest little angel.” leon told the lady, a sheepish smile on his face as he brought his free hand up to stroke your head, hoping to calm you down. “say sorry, girl.”

your nose scrunched up at his unwanted instructions and glared at him incredulously, though you looked more like a kicked puppy than anything else. sorry. sorry? why should you have to apologize? she should be getting on her damn knees and apologizing for even breathing near leon. what a pain.

“but daddy!” you bit back a complaint, sulking and rolling your eyes. “‘m…sorry.”

“that’s my girl, you’re just in a bad mood, hm?” he encouraged you to give some more meat to your vague apology.

you nodded. “mhm, i’m just not feeling well today, ma’am.”

and oh boy. the drive back home was uncomfortable. leon would never yell at you, he was a softie for you. and he wasn’t particularly mad, just…feeling uneasy because you had never growled at a stranger unless it was someone who was trying to pet you without your permission.

it turned him on too, much to his embarrassment. driving with a hard-on was difficult.

laundry incident

leon was a little on edge on his drive back home, mostly because he had told you he would’ve been home two fucking hours ago. yet here he was, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel of his car, waiting for the light to turn green.

and of course you were anxious! your eyes had been trained on the clock, just waiting to hear the familiar sound of him pulling into the driveway and opening the garage. but it hadn’t happened. one minute felt like thirty, you really had no sense of time.

with tears in your eyes, you went upstairs, sniffing the air a bit to pinpoint where his scent was the strongest. poor thing, you just needed some comfort. you eventually stumbled to his laundry hamper, turning it upside down to get all the clothes onto the floor and then tossing the bin elsewhere.

you made yourself comfortable on top of the pile, clinging onto one of the jackets that was there and bunching it up against your face. it made you feel so much better, but along with that came some warmth that pooled in your lower abdomen, making you whine as you sniffed at his lingering scent. you felt light-headed, like his smell alone was giving you some kind of high and making your body all tingly. you had half the mind to stuff some of his clothes between your legs and rut against it like an animal. but you didn’t.

you kept nuzzling against it, so distracted and caught up that you didn’t even hear the series of sounds you had been waiting for — garage door, jangling keys, your owner’s familiar footsteps.

leon sighed when he wasn’t met with your usual bombardment of affection, and he let out a whistle, the same one he always used to call you over with. but he didn’t hear you scamper on over to him. he checked all the rooms downstairs before heading up, and yeah, he saw you there on his bedroom floor, looking all pitiful while cuddling against the mess of a pile you had made

“oh, sweetheart.” he murmured tenderly, making his way over and kneeling down, cautiously stroking your head. your tail wagged in response, your ears perking as you sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, whining against him.

“sorry for not giving you a heads up, sweet girl. did you miss me?”

“mhm, i missed you so much. it felt like you were gone for a whole month.”

you were so dramatic, all he could do was bite back a chuckle, he didn’t want to make your worries seem like a laughing matter.

“i know, i know.” he kissed the top of your hand, his hands sliding down to your hips to keep you against him, wanting to console you for a while.

his clothes didn’t compare to actually having his heavenly presence, you pressed your face against his neck, your nose brushing against his pulse point as you breathed him in over and over, cute little whines and grunts escaping you, so happy to have him back. you needed to make sure he was okay! to make sure he didn’t smell like someone else.

“easy, girl, easy.”

he was losing it, having a pretty pup like you squirming against him and making those sweet noises wasn’t easy. sure, you had always been whiny when he came home late, but you had never been like this.

it was hard to tell whether his absence was giving you unhealthy attachment issues or if there was another root to the problem. leon wasn’t exactly the best at initiating such discussions.

bath incident

you were a lot of work. leon should’ve just put you in the bath and left you to your own devices the very first time. but no, he didn’t. what if you got soap in your pretty eyes or somehow drowned? unlikely, but with a curious puppy hybrid, anything was possible.

ever since then, you always need him to bathe you. but you were in no way decent about it.

he was catching up on some emails sent to him on his laptop when he heard a soft pair of knocks on the door. you, of course. “come in, baby.”

he wasn’t expecting for you to be stripped down though, your nipples hardened presumably from chilly gust of his AC, and a patch of hair down below because he was always too scared to shave you down there, what if he accidentally cut you? he resorted to just trimming it. it was cute though.

“christ.” he hurried up and shut his blinds, were you crazy? it was night time, the room was illuminated, anyone could’ve seen you. you were going to give him grey hairs, yeah he was already heading that way but you were speeding the process up!

he babied you though, letting you lead him to the bathroom by tugging on his sleeve. he listened to you chatter about your day and about a new collar you wanted while he filled the tub and made sure the water temperature was nice.

it was hard not to take peeks at you as you sunk into the water once it was ready. he was a man. and you were pretty, a bit too much.

like always, he used a washcloth to clean you up — using his free hand to hold you steady. your tail always splashed water and made a mess on the tiled floor.

“you’re splashing all the water.” leon noted, leaning down a bit to kiss the crown of your head. he truly had no backbone when it came to you.

“i can’t help it! my tail moves on it’s own.”

“maybe this is a sign for you to start taking showers instead, hm? it’s less of a mess, quicker, and i’m sure you wouldn’t even need my help.”

“um…no.”

“no?”

“i always need you, daddy! it wouldn’t be fun getting cleaned up with you.”

and to make matters worse, even after he finished cleaning you up, you were still nagging at him, he sat on the edge of his bed and waited as you got into your nightgown.

“i feel sore.” you whined, going over to stand in front of him, your tail tucked between your legs.

“sore? but we didn’t even go on a walk today.” he held onto one of your hands, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “want me to massage your legs?”

“mm-mm.” you shook your head and cupped your own breasts, squeezing them. “i’m sore here, don’t know why. help me?”

your chest always ached for a few days every month. you hadn’t really attributed it to the fact it always hurt just before your period, though.

leon bit his lower lip. he really shouldn’t indulge you. his fingers were twitching a bit, his mind already imagining the plushness of your mounds..

“such a spoiled princess….sure, c’mere.” he scooted back a bit, spreading his legs to make space for you to sit on the matress.

slowly running his hands up your torso as you sat down with your back facing him, he eventually reached your tits, kneading at the soft flesh. like pillows, he noted. they’d be nice to nip at and use as a stress reliever. if only. god, he felt like those perverted people who bought PC mouses with character’s tits on them.

“that feel okay?” his question was a murmur against your ear. you nodded and squirmed back against him, resting your head against his shoulder and going limp. “mhm, keep going.”

maybe you didn’t notice the way there was a bulge pressing against your backside, or the way leon’s hands squeezed you a bit harder whenever a soft mewl escaped your lips.

whether it was arousal or actual relief from your soreness, he didn’t know. but your nipples were hard again, his room wasn’t cold anymore so clearly it was because they were being stimulated by his fingers.

maybe if leon was also a hybrid with an exceptional sense of smell, he’d smell the honey your cunt sobbed for him. your panties felt all sticky and uncomfortable, your clit throbbing like it had a heart of its own.

he couldn’t help himself, he gave your nipples a pinch, hearing you squeal after and arch your back. “daddy!”

“…sorry, princess.”

yeah, he jacked off that night.

————

the point is, there was only so much leon could take before he fucked you stupid. but maybe that’s what you wanted him to do, considering you were getting all dolled up with nowhere to go, just stuck in the house with him. you didn’t want it any other way.

descending from the stairs, you went on over to the living room, taking your favorite seat between his knees, your legs folded on the fuzzy rug below that you had begged him to buy when he took you to the furniture store. said it was soft enough for you to sit on the floor with it. he told you that you could just sit with him on the couch or his lap, but you liked sitting by his feet. so, he got it specifically for you. oh, how spoiled you were.

his taste in decor had always been simple, but now his place was filled with all the things you wanted — plushies, frilly couch pillows, cute figurines of characters you didn’t even fucking know. what a poser.

leon’s thighs were massive, the sight of them all spread had you swallowing some of the saliva that had immediately welled up in your mouth. you had seen his dick several times, you always wanted to stroke it and suck it, how could you not? you were sure it would fit perfectly in your mouth.

your skirt was so fucking short and frilly that it was riding up your ass because of the way you were positioned, had leon been behind you, he would’ve gotten a perfect shot of your lacy panties (and the way they were already soaked.)

looking down at you, he failed at suppressing the burst of heat that shot down to his stomach from how tempting you were, gazing up at him with those pretty eyes that seemed to be asking for something, but he was unsure of what.

his hand settled on top of your head, stroking the area between where your cute ears were all perked up. “look at you, all dolled up and pretty. need something, sweetheart?”

your tail was already wagging at full speed when he pet you. you nodded eagerly. “want your attention, daddy.”

the word fell from your lips in such an emphasized way. you would sound so lewd squealing that out as he buried his cock inside you over and over. maybe he should get help.

“you’re so needy.” with a click of tongue, he, gave one of your ears a gentle flick. “i always give you all my attention. when’s the last time you’ve left me alone for more than five minutes? last time i checked, i spoil you rotten.”

you frowned at that but he did have a point. still! you needed more, you were so greedy. maybe if he was good at dishing out some discipline, you’d be better. anyone looking into the situation would’ve wondered why leon never put you over his knee, he could easily manhandle you with the strength he had built through the last two decades.

“don’t pout, when have i ever neglected your needs?” he asked. leon grinned and patted his lap. “come here..”

his hands snaked down to hold onto your hips as you followed his instructions eagerly.

“this better?”

“yup! you know i like being close to you…what are you watching on TV?”

“i was just browsing some channels, can’t find any that are playing a good movie though…i might just have to get my dvd box back out and just rewatch a movie. cinema is dead these days, it was better back then.”

“old man.” you snickered, laughing at his complaint.

“you wound me.” he was being dramatic. “trying to break my heart, princess?”

with a giggle, you shake your head before burying it against the crook of his neck. “no, i love you.”

there was tension in the air, he was sure today would be his breaking point.

he tried to get his mind off the way your warm breath was fanning against his skin, and the way you were sniffing at him.

what leon couldn’t ignore though, was the very discreet and quiet squelching he heard whenever you shifted your hips, paired with the dampness that was seeping through the fabric of his pants from where you sat atop him. you were wet. fuck. and not just a little wet. no, you were dripping. he didn’t even know women could be this soaked without actually being touched.

“stay still. you’re so restless.” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to keep you in place. you were always squirmy, moving around like you had just downed two energy drinks. he sounded breathless, your ears perked up.

your cheeks huffed out, your clit no longer getting any stimulation, only some pressure at being pressed snugly against some hard part of his pants. you clenched a bit to try to get some more, even a scrap.

“nooo, but it felt so good.” you whined, your tone of voice tugging at his heartstrings. “more, please?”

he shouldn’t. he really, really, really shouldn’t. but he did, you pushed his limits way too much these the past weeks. he was weak, and his sweet (bratty) puppy was seeking some pleasure. it would be sad to just leave you like this, wouldn’t it? you were ready for him, he was sure foreplay wasn’t even needed for his dick to painlessly stretch you out.

“you’re such a brat, y’know that? always all over me like i’m immune to your charms. was this your plan?”

of course you nodded with a coy smile before nipping at his neck.

taking a sharp inhale, his hips bucked up, making your toes curl at the abruptness of the feeling. it felt more exhilarating when leon was the one directly giving you that pleasure, more so than when you rut against some pillow. or maybe it was because you could hear his grunts and hitched breaths, clearly this felt good for him too. you were giving your owner pleasure, this was mutually beneficial!

you were using his lap as if it were some kind of trampoline for your plush ass, dry humping him like the puppy hybrid you were, using him for your hearts (clits) desire..

pulling your face away from his neck, you cupped his face and kissed him sloppily, too turned on to do it properly. leon’s eyes shut, returning the passion with fevor. when you leaned away, a thin string of shared saliva snapped.

“daddy, i wanna touch you and suck you.” your hand snaked down to rub over his jeans, it was obvious what you wanted. you got back down onto the floor, looking up at him expectantly.

“fuck…you’re impatient.” he leaned down and gave you one final kiss before leaning back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, pushing his hips up a bit to get his pants down to his knees.

you looked all starry-eyed, mouth agape at the sight of his dick. it had a curve to it, you licked your lips. you were on him in an instant, sucking on one of his balls, letting it out with a soft ‘pop’ and doing the same to his other one. they felt heavy, that’s for sure. maybe his seed would be strong enough to get you all swollen and round first try, fuck, you wanted it.

“you’re so hot…” he watched you with lidded eyes, his stomach tensing at the sensitivity. listen, he hadn’t felt a tongue on him in years, give him a break.

he gave your fluffy ears a scratch, holding his breath when you licked a strip up his shaft and finally wrapped your pretty lips around his dick. all his nerves felt fuzzy, the thoughts being knocked out of his head.

the background TV sound faded out, replaced with the sound of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

leon hissed when he felt your teeth brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock, and his fingers instinctively tugged on your hair to pull you back.

“careful with your teeth, princess.” you were new at this, it was to be expected.

“‘m sorry.” you tell him, your ears pinning back a bit from the thought of hurting him, like it was some kind of sin. you got right back to sucking him dry, mindful of your teeth, going down until the tip of your nose felt his hair.

“juuust like that.”

your tail flicked to and fro in response to his praise, doing the same thing over and over until you had to pull back for air, taking deep breaths, your brows furrowed.

his grip on the base of his cock was loose, and he gently slapped it against the side of your face. pat, pat, pat. geez. what a perv he must be, because he felt lightheaded from how hot the sight was. you were looking up at him through your lashes, just taking anything he did without any questions.

and it’s because you liked it. there was something exciting about knowing you were seeing a vulnerable side to him. a part of him that random woman you growled at when he took you to the park wouldn’t see.

“what do you need?” he had to ask, you were staring at him so devotedly, your eyes lit up as you looked at him.

“you.”

leon could’ve just fucked you in the living room. but he was sweeter than that, he wouldn’t just push you onto the floor or couch…maybe in the future if you were being particularly bad. but this was your first time, and he was somewhat of a gentleman.

standing up, he slung you over his shoulder with ease, taking you to the bedroom and placing you onto the soft sheets of the mattress.

he fumbled with his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head, but it did nothing to make his burning body cool off. you followed suit, stripping and getting into position.

leon’s eyes glazed over when he saw you: face down, ass up, back arched, already squirming a bit. he hadn’t even given you any instructions, you had just gotten into doggystyle position as if it was your nature. well…it kind of was.

getting on the bed and kneeling behind you, his weight sunk the mattress down a bit as he settled between your spread legs. his palm splayed over your ass, fondling it a bit before he gave one side a soft smack.

you yelped at that, your body jolting a bit.

“so dramatic,” he snorted, grinning at your reaction and giving you another pat on the other side. “i was being gentle.”

he stroked himself a couple times before pushing the head of his cock inside you.

he was about to ask if you were in pain so he could take it slow, but you were already throwing your ass back onto him and taking him whole. “feels so good…”

he watched your ass bounce and meet his hips before he leaned down so he could put one of his hands between your shoulder blades, keeping you still while he shoved his dick in and out of you.

his balls kissed your clit with force every time his hips pressed against yours, making you squeal. your calves kicked a little involuntarily, so cute.

the noises were obscene, like something only a high quality microphone could properly pick up.

you were so wet, his sheets would be a mess later, how dirty. vocal seemed to be your middle name, with the way you were sobbing out for him without a care in the damn world. as if you were in some studio with sound-proof walls, which you absolutely weren’t.

“daddy, daddy, daddy!” your voice was getting all high pitched.

“yeah, keep crying for me.” his hand tangled into your hair, tugging it so your noises were no longer all muffled from the way your face had been pressed against the pillow.

“so pretty…you were made for this, weren’t you? made to take my cock? bet i could slide it in easily whenever and you’d drop whatever you were doing.”

where the hell was this dirty talk coming from? leon was sure he’d feel embarrassed after this was all over but right now his mind could only think of how your walls swallowed him.

your answer was a long series of whines, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as his cock pressed in deeper, fitting so snugly inside you and hitting that spot that indirectly stimulated your clit.

he gave your ass a slap with his other hand. “good girls answer when they’re asked a question. use your words.”

“yes!” your voice sounded so broken and hoarse. “i want it, daddy. w-whenever…whenever you want…’m yours, y’know that.”

“atta girl, so eager to please your owner.” his voice was smoother now, he guided you down until you were laying flat on your stomach. he pressed his chest against your sweaty back, enveloping you whole.

you were in heaven, the room filled to the brink with leon’s natural scent, it made your head spin. he pressed some kisses to the side of your head, lazily thrusting into you as he took some time to smother you with some sweet affection.

“such a good puppy. you don’t even have a single thought inside that pretty head of yours, hm? fucked you stupid? thought your breed was supposed to be smart.”

pitiful mewls emitted from your throat, your hands holding onto the pillows like your life depended on it. there was so much going on, your brain was turning to mush.

he held onto your jaw, pushing his middle and ring finger into your opened mouth, they got lubricated immediately, your lips closing around them as you started sucking eagerly like you had done for his cock.

he let you use him like a lollipop for a while until he pulled his fingers out your mouth.

“bet you just wanna be bred, huh sweet girl? wanna get knocked up and have my babies?”

those questions had you sobbing, “yes, yes, yes! want you to fill me up!”

he brought that same hand down underneath your hips, his hand trapped between the matress and your cunt, and rubbed tight circles on your sensitive clit. you trembled, your eyes tearing up from how earth-shattering it felt. you instinctively rut down, being both split open and having your bud being toyed with.

“daddy…daddy, don’t stop.” god, you were drooling all over his pillow.

“yeah, you gonna cum soon?” the answer better be yes because there was no way he could hold back for much longer. his time was running out, he was losing it.

“mhm, gonna cum.”

he had to see your pretty face, he flipped you onto your back, wasting no time on spreading your thighs and pistoning back into you, his thumb rubbing at your clit. your collar jingled with each thrust, your toes curling and your stomach clenching.

your head tilted back, his free hand wrapped around your throat, applying very light pressure there and playing with the adornment on it. you looked like a goddamn mess, hair all frizzy, lips wet and swollen, tits bouncing, your ears pinned back, eyes glossy and shedding some tears.

he gave your clit a few spanks, each one making you squeal loudly, your eyes rolling back.

you held onto his forearm for support as your body trembled in waves, your cunt squeezing his dick so tightly that he couldn’t move in and out of you as fast. leon groaned, his balls feeling tight before he finished. he hadn’t climaxed this much in years, his hips stuttered against yours every time he emptied another string of cum inside you.

he slumped against you, the room filled with quiet panting and your whimpers. your legs wrapped around his torso, not wanting him to move.

“love you…”

“i love you too, princess.”

“can we go again?”

“…you’re so fucking greedy.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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itachiiwrites · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃

Pt. 2 of Notice me! Senpai!

Plot: By now you should know he'll do just about anything to get your attention, even if it means being shitty at a job he's good at.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: divider by @cafekitsune , @rookthornesartistry beta by lovely @entirelysein-e | @pixelcafe-network

a/n; I know I'm ignoring my kinktober list..I know...

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚ cw. Minors. Do. Not. Enter. Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, 69, prone bone, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk gojo, gojo is a yearner, age gap (reader is 33, Satoru is 28), canon divergent (it's never gojover :⁠^⁠))

Word count: 2.8k

Gojo Satoru never thought that he’d be so gullible.

Gullible enough to let himself get dumped by you, not that you dumped him in actuality, in his head you were so much more than that one time you sent him a risqué text accidentally, which consequently led to a very eventful thing happening. Key word, sex.

He knew that had to do something to get your attention, which meant doing a terribly sloppy, messy job on a mission. The killing wasn't the part he would suck at, for very obvious reasons but he could unapologetically collapse a few evacuated buildings, spill the guts, bones and blood of the curses obscenely enough that it left a trace even for the non-sorcerers. The consequences would leave him in a lot of deep shit from the higher ups and principal Yaga.

“Satoru, the casualties in Kobe weren’t as much as we expected, but for the love of fucking god! Can you care enough to explain why you’ve NOT done a clean job?” The air pressure in the room seemed to be skyrocketing with principal Yaga’s blood pressure and the way veins on his forehead were perceptibly popping out, contrasted by Satoru’s smirk of unbothered cool detachment. You knew it was bad the moment principal Yaga didn't particularly care about cuss words effortlessly leaving his mouth.

“My job is to obliterate, I obliterate, maybe maid Ichiji is just not doing his job well” You furrowed your brows at the entitlement and smugness in his statement. Shrugging his shoulders with his hands raised up in a gesture of ‘I wonder’, all of this being way too unserious and unimportant to him. What the fuck was that?

Your presence wasn't technically needed here, but you were specially called for since the only person Satoru considered listening to was you. You stood adjacent to the poor, scrawny man currently hanging on a flimsy thread of his sanity, and the risk of the consequences that his senior was so casually posing for him. You watched the meek man deep his head down, that's when you knew you had to step in for your colleague.

“Gojo-kun, take this seriously. Calling Ichiji-san a maid is not very nice either, it's better to be considerate of people who take away the burden from you for a lot of things. A ‘thank you’ would be better than the..whatever way you're speaking.” The stern tone in your voice definitely took him aback, a strange tug taking over his chest, before he let out an uproarious guffaw, almost like he didn’t take what you said seriously. Ouch.

“Fiiine, I'll do it for you, Just for you.” He threw his hands up dramatically and it drew a wringing smile on your lips. Almost. Yaga on the other hand, was technically on the verge of snapping again at his response, but you saw the principal do EFT, making you sigh at how effortless Satoru was at everything, especially at annoying people.

"Well, thank you Ichiji, since my dear Senpai here is telling me to be polite” He hummed with a smile, a little hopeful after a bordered smile that he pulled from you, his beloved.

His fingers played with the seam of the silky fabric of his blindfold. You noticed. It was an action he often did whenever he was in the wrong about something, where he was thoughtful. It wasn't that he wanted to push the blame on Ichiji, he just wanted your attention, some sort of reaction after being ghosted so brutally after that day. The black haired man simply nodded, acknowledging the apology, darting his eyes at you with a glimmer of gratitude, for stepping up.

You knew he was meeting your eyes, though not visibly, through the restraint of his blindfold. This was not the reaction that he expected, his glossed bottom lip poking out in a pout at the non-verbal interaction between you and Ichiji. And oh how it made him feel bitter. “So did that make you happy, Senpai?” pettishly breathed out, the tonality in his voice was clipped, cold, annoyed and you just rolled your eyes, equally peeved. There was nothing poor about him, and he was getting way too comfortable even at work. But he thought he had that privilege, especially after being between your legs. Not that he understood the concept of personal space, ever.

“Forget it! No one can convince this block head, don't waste your energy. Get back to work everyone.” Yaga had evidently given up at the fact that Satoru wouldn't budge from his cockiness even after being scolded upon.

“See ya, old man” Satoru's statement was met with nothing but a door slam, followed by the presence of you and Ichiji leaving as well, no longer in the room.

He huffed, expecting him to give him an arm touch before you left and look at him with your sympathetic eyes before he'd press his lips against yours and source his energy from the suppleness of them. Fuck. He couldn't be nonchalant about you ignoring him, he was spiralling.

Something had to be done about this.

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

You being stern to him didn't really pay off well, Satoru took it too personally, so personally that he was now at your doorstep, his tall stature looming over you, his broad shoulders that were casting a shadow onto you, drenched from the rain pouring outside, almost looking like a wet dog. Your mind brimmed with questions, why wasn't his infinity on? You stepped away from the door, allowing him inside, a soft cringe taking over your features when you saw the splatters of water on your clean wooden floor. Not like he cared.

“Why weren't you carrying an umbrella?” You looked like a mother, who had her hands on either side of her waist, frustrated with her child who decided that playing around in mud was a good idea. That's what you looked like to Satoru. Cute.

He locked his eyes in yours with a snare gaze along with a playful smile settled on his lips. Not exactly in the mood for talking after your treatment towards him earlier. He grabbed your wrist with a firm, determined grip, making you stumble onto his lap, in a straddle with a soft thud. You lamented softly at the feeling of the wet fabric against your dry, warm and crisp ones.

“You're soiling my clothes, Satoru!” You grumbled further, slapping his chest, your hands quick to smooth away the new state of your clothes, as if it would help.

You swivelled your head on your neck upward, looking at him, and his face had an expression of arrogant confidence and no remorse, a smirk playing the corner of his mouth, cloudy hair plastered on his forehead as thick drops of water streamed down his pretty face in rivulets. He had no right to look this good.

“What? You can handle this much.. you've been awfully rude to me, Princess. Besides, I'm gonna get you drenched anyway.” To which your face loomed a rosy pink. He gave a raspy laugh at the end of the suggestive comment then leaned in, his breath on your cheek warm as he pressed a soft, tender kiss onto your shaded cheek, his hands now growing explorative with his touch, slipping underneath your cardigan.

“You know why I got wet in the rain?” He left the question in the air, a rhetoric as his nimble fingers unbuttoned the cardigan, his eyes half lidded, watching the wool slide down from your shoulders, edging below the lace of your bra. ‘Fuck’ he muttered, tracing his fingertips on the swell of your bosom, frantically leaning in to tether wet kisses from your collarbone to your cleavage, his large hands expanding to cup your clothed chest, circling his hands in soft fondles, earning a mewl from your lips.

His eyes snapped at your face at your reaction, face flushed and eagerly watching his each move. You wanted him. You wanted him!

“I did it to have your attention..even that stupid mission that I could've finished in seconds..did it for you, all for you..Senpai” Shaking his head as he confessed, his hands creeping down to grasp at the plush flesh of your thighs from below, picking you up to land the two of you in your bedroom. You were flattered to the depths of your heart but you just couldn't pinpoint or understand where this was coming from. It had only been 3 days since you both were together again after that night.

He slid off the long coat of his uniform, then his pants and boxers with a grunt as it clung to his skin. He moved on the bed, hovering on top of you, your eyes failing to dart away from his cock that was unbearably hard and prodding at your inner thigh.

“It's not like you don't have my attention—” you crooned, your voice to him like velvet, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. It was a voice that caressed his ears and soothed his soul, a sound that made him want to listen to you speak forever; the sweetness and undertone of sensuality. Something an adrenaline junkie like him could get addicted to but he cut you off, to make his point.

“It's not enough…it'll never be enough. I'll never not have enough of you” He spoke in a new found desperation in his voice, his fingers hauling the material of your slacks and panties, prying open your thighs, moaning at the sight of your inviting, sodded, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” He asked in confirmation and you shuddered at the coolness of his fingers that were tempered because of him being wet in the rain priorly.

You nodded your head frantically, your hand settled on his wrist to do something, while he teased your slit so painfully slow, at an agonising degree. “ ‘Toru..please, do something..” that pleading your voice was so satisfying, so affirmative to the light of the fact that you wanted him too. “Fuck.. baby, say it again..need you to say it again..” He pleaded, the azure of his eyes wild and crazed, a feral gleam in their depths that sent shivers down your spine.

“All for you..” That's it. Satoru flipped you over, manhandling you to settle yourself on top of him, now in front of his proud cock, while your ass was on his face, his eyes fixed on your drooling heat.

He dipped in, giving an experimental lap onto your folds, his eyes rolling back at your taste, your essence while his two fingers nudged at the stretchy, entrance muscle, slipping them in with ease, your back arching at the intrusion. His tongue drew circles onto your clit, delving to spread your already profanely exposed pussy with his free hand, smiling at how your nub was poking out, greedy for his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

His hand came down on the globe of your ass with a sharp, stinging smack, the impact making you gasp, a consecutive whine passing your lips when he stopped, your heartbeat in a thrumming beat when he stopped his ministrations and pulled away, giving you another smack, your walls fluttering even at the emptiness. “You're not facing my cock for nothing, suck on it. Make good use of your mouth other than, you know…defending another man.”

“You're full of yourself, you really are..”

Yet you obliged even as you felt vexed by his backhanded comment, your thumb moving up and down on the velvet skin, on his frenum, admiring the curve of his blessed inches before lewdly taking him in your mouth, moaning with your mouth clasped around him when he gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your pussy now bubbling with his spit as he ate you out so voraciously, grunting and whimpering on your core in need, in yearning. He felt a little asphyxiated at you sitting on his face, although the good kind.

The orgasm that coiled in your body finally snapped, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, his happy trail tickling against your chin, his fingers scissoring into you hard and fast, the gushy, squelching noise at the action resounded on the walls—your eyes rolling back at their sockets, his cock slipping out your mouth, red, angry but lustrous with your spit.

“Thaaat's it, fuck, cum on fingers and mouth..make a mess..” He cooed, increasing the rapidness of his fingers. The wave of tingling heat and pleasure washed over you, a wave that crested and broke as you cried out, body arching and writhing under his touch. He sighed, loudly drinking away your juices before detaching yourself from his face, moving your body to hover on you again.

He teased his fingers on your lips, letting your jaw fall slack as he pushed his fingers in. Your mouth immediately surrounded them, swirling your hot tongue to savour your taste, eyes looking in his, all perused. “Look at you, sucking on my fingers like a nasty little slut. You defended Ichiji earlier..gonna let him do this too? Huh? Tell me Senpai..” He mocked pulling out his fingers to let you speak—that led a gasp to erupt your throat. He was satisfied, seeing the glow on your cheeks, the glassed eyes. All for him.

“No Toru..all for you, just for you.. I'm yours” You cloy, tantalising the head of his cock on your slick folds, the environment in the room balmy and humid. That teasing came to a halt when he propelled himself into you with a full swarm. “You're mine, all mine..mine mine mine..no one's gonna..fuck your pussy like me, make you cum like me..no one, princess..”

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

And he fucked you stupid, so primally, so animalistically. Losing count on how many times he pulled an orgasm after orgasm out of you. Now currently having his body overbearingly pressed on yours, his chest on your back, clammy with sweat, his forearms either side of your head, the way your hips were angled made you feel every inch, hitting at spot. He grunted, picking up his upper body away, hands placed on the small of your back that felt like a voltage.

He kneaded onto the flesh of your ass, prior to drawing both your wrists together, holding them down against your back as he plunged into you in a frenzy, harder and faster, nearing the edge. His own dick raw after cumming in you too many times during the night.

Satoru whimpered at the sight of you so ravenously stretched out his length, swallowing him in as he came again, completely milked dry and your body violently quivering. He chanted your name in soft cries as he pulled out, gently fisting himself and getting out every last drop on your twitching cunny.

He dropped his body onto you like it weighed nothing, ragging breaths leaving his lips and yours. He kissed the expanse of the back of your neck, playfully blowing a raspberry on your skin, making you giggle.

“You're a freak.” You turned around, allowing your manicured hairs to trail through his hair, enjoying the texture of his silky strands, as you brushed it back from his forehead. Your touch was gentle, almost reverent, fingers carded through the locks, massaging his scalp with a light pressure that made him hum in contentment.

“I'm your freak..” The giddy, smitten smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Damn it.

“Be my girlfriend..I can't take anymore of you not being mine anymore..” He saw the hesitation flicker across your face and it caught him off guard, the sorcerer felt something drop sickeningly in his stomach. Definitely his heart.

“...Let me think about it, okay?” He rolled his eyes before pinning your wrists above your head in bravado.

“You want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.” He smiled, self assured, seeing the heat crawl on your cheeks at his crude yet factual comment.

“You're blushing..” He pointed, leaning his head downward, fighting the idiotic grin that was slowly lacing his handsome face at your reaction. He hummed, nosing your nipple faintly, before giving it a quick lap.

“So..? Never saw anyone fall for your charm before?” You raise your brow and he snorts, giving a soft bite on the supple flesh of your nipple with a chuckle at your gasp, immediately soothing it with a lick. “Yeah I have seen someone not fall for it, it's you.”

“Well, it doesn't matter because tomorrow I'm telling everyone that you're my girlfriend, especially Ichiji” He proudly replied, pulling you to his chest, inhaling deeply to let your scent tickle his senses.

“You're not gonna lose on this are you?” your arm wrapped around his waist, signalling him that you weren't exactly opposed to the idea.

“Nope, I'm the strongest for a reason” He spoke in his ever unwavering swagger and you could only sigh, being a loser in his love.

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thewolvesofthenorth · 15 days ago

Text

The Perfect Angle

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Rating: 18+ Word Count: 5k+ Summary: Cregan needs help with an art project. Warnings: Angst, language, fluff, smut (fingering, p in v) A/N: Working on getting the next chapter of MOH out, but this one came to me and I just had to get it written! Hope you all enjoy!

⟸ Man of Honor ❖ What Goes Around Comes Around ⟹

You watched him from across the room. He lounged on the couch, legs casually spread, a pencil in one hand and a sketchpad balanced on his knee. At first glance, you’d never guess a man like him—rugged, unpolished—could be capable of something so delicate. But Cregan Stark was no ordinary man.

He was your best friend—and the object of your quiet, unspoken affection. Sadly, he had absolutely no idea. To him, you were the reliable confidante, the girl he could turn to for anything and everything. And now, here you were, helping him salvage his art project. He’d called earlier that week, panicked and desperate, which had led to this moment.

- FLASHBACK -

Your phone rang as you juggled a backpack, three textbooks, a stack of papers, and a precariously balanced cup of coffee in one hand while wrestling with your keys in the other. At first, you considered ignoring it, but the distinct ringtone and vibration pattern you’d set for your best friend made you think twice.

He’s never so insistent unless it’s something urgent.

Taking a chance, you fished your phone from your back pocket with the same hand holding your keys, bracing the precarious stack of coffee, books, and papers against your hip as you swiped to answer.

“What’s the emergency?”

“Oh, thank the Seven you picked up!” Cregan exclaimed in a panicked voice.

“Well, the three back-to-back calls made it a little hard to ignore you,” you retorted, placing the phone against your ear and resuming your task at opening your door. “What’s up, Stark?”

“What are you doing on Thursday?” You raised an eyebrow at his question.

“You blew up my phone just to ask if I had plans on Thursday?” You rolled your eyes as you finally got the door open, walked into your apartment, and set your stuff on the kitchen counter.

“Just answer the question.”

“As of now, nothing. But I’m sure that’s about to change.”

“I need your help,” he said.

“With?”

“My art project.”

“Why?”

“Because my model dropped out last minute and now, I need a replacement.”

“And?”

“And I was hoping you’d be willing to help me out.”

“Help you how?”

“By being my model,” he replied. “Please?”

“Your model? What, like just sit there and pose for you?”

“Yeah, kind of, sort of.”

“…. What do you mean ‘kind of, sort of’?”

“Um - well, you’d have to - uh - be - uh - naked,” he managed to spit out.

“Excuse me?”

What?!

“Yeah…. You’d have to pose naked for me….” His voice trailed off and you could hear him wincing through the phone.

“Uh - Cregan, I don’t know,”

“Please, I am begging you.”

You wrestled with your feelings. On one hand, you knew he wouldn’t be asking for your help with something like this unless he had no other choice, and you wanted to help. But on the other hand, you were hesitant, given your own feelings.

The two of you were close, but not that kind of close. You’d always flirted, danced around each other, but never crossed that line. You had an inkling that doing this for him would change the dynamic between the two of you, but you weren’t sure if it would be for better or worse.

Only in your wildest dreams had you imagined Cregan in that way, and now here he was, asking you to bare it all.

To him.

In the name of art.

“I hate you,” you sighed, running your hand through your hair.

“So, you’ll do it?!” He exclaimed, excited.

“Only because you’re my best friend,” you answered.

“And because you love me,” he added, and you rolled your eyes.

More than you know.

“Whatever. You could at least buy me dinner first before I get naked for you,” you said sarcastically.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank youuuuuu! This project is half my semester grade, and you have no idea how much you just saved my ass.”

“You owe me so big after this,” you answered as you walked over to your freezer and pulled out a pint of your favorite ice cream.

“Of course. Dinner. Flowers. Anything,” he said. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Oh, if only you knew what I actually want.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Seriously, it really means a lot that you’re doing this for me.”

“I know, I’m the best.”

“You really are, you have no idea how much I love you right now.” Your heart leapt in your chest at his words.

“It better be a lot more than usual,” you replied, playing it cool to hide how his words had affected you.

“Oh, definitely a lot more,” he responded. “Anyways, I gotta finish up a few things, but I’ll see you Thursday?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

As you set your phone down, you grabbed a spoon from the drawer, popped the lid off, and shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth, your mind reeling from what you’d just agreed to.

What did I just do?

- END FLASHBACK -

From the moment you arrived, Cregan had been a perfect gentleman—more so than usual—and had given you a robe and privacy to undress. After a while, he returned and instructed you on how to position yourself for the first pose, guiding your body to sit exactly as he wanted.

You were impressed by how professional Cregan was, never once making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Soft music played in the background, filling the silence, and apart from the sound of his pencil on paper, there was very little conversation. The only time Cregan spoke was to instruct you—tilt your head this way, adjust your body here—or when he finished a sketch and invited you to look at the results.

The first pose was simple: you straddled a chair, your bare back to him, with your head turned to the side, resting on your fist.

The second pose was similar, but this time you faced him, your chest pressed against the back of the chair to accentuate the curve of your breasts, still tastefully covered. Your left arm rested flat on the back of the chair, while your right arm propped your head up, your face turned slightly to the side.

For the third pose, he sketched you from the side as you sat on the floor: one leg bent, the other straight, both arms behind you supporting your weight. Your head tilted back, and your hair cascaded freely behind you.

The fourth pose had you lying on your stomach, legs bent with your feet crossed at the ankles. One arm propped your head up, while the other rested beneath you, tastefully covering your chest.

However, for the fifth pose you had to relocate.

To Cregan’s room.

Specifically, his bed.

You laid on your side, facing away from him, your body angled slightly back, positioning your arm so your elbow rested behind you, your hand on your hip. Your face flushed as he sketched behind you.

You were naked.

On his bed.

Your heart had pounded as you listened to the soft rhythmic scratching of his pencil against the paper.

When he finished, you opted to move on to the next pose rather than look at the sketch, too embarrassed to even meet his gaze.

This brought you to your current position, lying on his bed and posing. Facing him. You were propped on your side, your bottom leg bent slightly forward, your top leg extended slightly back. Your upper body rested on a pillow; your elbow propped up with a loose fist supporting your face. The other arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on the bed in front of you.

This was the first pose where you were facing him completely uncovered, with nothing to block his view of your intimate parts. Your stomach was in knots as a hundred thoughts raced through your mind.

What is he thinking about?

It feels hot in here.

Even though I’m naked right now.

And he has his ceiling fan going.

I think I’m starting to sweat.

Why are my hands getting clammy?

Oh, seven hells.

Don’t look at him.

Don’t look at him!

But you looked anyways. When you did your breath caught in your throat. He was on the couch across from you, legs spread, sketchbook resting on his thigh as he sketched you. As he glanced up, your eyes met, and you nervously swallowed before giving him a small smile. He returned your smile wordlessly, then turned his attention back to his work.

Even though you were exposed, your entire body laid bare before him, you still felt at ease in his presence. He just had that effect on you. You often wished you had the courage to tell him how you felt, but you’d never had the opportunity, and you were sure that even if you did, you still wouldn’t be able to say anything. So, instead of being upfront about your feelings, you chose to hide behind flirtation and innuendos.

You watched as his eyes darted between you and the paper, his strokes deliberate and fluid, capturing your features effortlessly. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before pausing and bringing the end of his pencil to his mouth. You’d never wanted to be an inanimate object as much as in that moment, and you had to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

The sound of Cregan clearing his throat brought you out of your thoughts and you blinked.

“Sorry, did I do something?”

“No, I just need you to shift into the final pose. You seemed deep in thought, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, setting his pencil and pad on the table as he stretched. His shirt rode up, exposing his skin. You bit your lip, following the trail of darker hair down until it disappeared into his waistband, some not so innocent thoughts whizzing through your head.

“Oh. Ok,” you answered, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming and now ogling. “How do you want me?”

On top?

On the bottom?

On my side?

Maybe riding you?

Stop it!

“Um,” Cregan began, scratching the stubble quickly growing on his chin. “Could you sit up?”

You complied, sitting up while maintaining the same position for your lower half.

“Uh - put your legs in front of you.”

You followed his instructions, bringing your legs forward.

“Uh - fuck,” Cregan cursed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You raised an eyebrow at his outburst, noticing how suddenly nervous he seemed.

“Do you want to show me how you want me to pose or maybe even just move me around like a rag doll?”

More like throw me around like one.

Damn it, stop.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, coming to sit beside you on the bed. A shiver went down your spine at his close proximity. "Yeah, uh, so I want you to - uh - sit like this.”

You watched as he awkwardly demonstrated the next pose, and a deep blush spread across your face as you took in how he was sitting.

Oh.

Wow.

I was not expecting that.

No wonder he got nervous.

You began to shift, moving your body to mimic the way his sat, your stomach flipping as you repositioned yourself little by little.

Legs bent.

Feet flat.

Knees apart.

Left foot slightly forward.

Right elbow on top of right knee.

Right hand on my neck.

Left arm….

Left arm in my lap.

Left hand…

Left hand in front…

You glanced over at him, still sitting beside you, noting the redness creeping across his face. He seemed to avoid meeting your gaze, eyes fixed on the wall.

“Is this all right?” You asked, gears mischievously turning in your head. Cregan briefly glanced at you before standing and nodding.

“Yup,” he said, walking back to the couch. He picked up his pencil and sketchpad, returning to his laid-back position, though now he seemed less relaxed and more nervous.

Cregan Stark was a man of principle, chivalrous, and respectful of women and their boundaries, a trait that was emphasized even more when he was drawing a subject.

However, you didn’t adhere to the same standards. Not to the same degree, at least. You were more playful and less serious, not one to shy away from pushing buttons. And oh, how you wanted to press Cregan’s.

You made sure to stay still as he began sketching, watching in amusement when his eyes flicked up to look at you and he visibly swallowed. After a few minutes, you made your first move. Faking a yawn, you pushed your chest out, drawing his attention, but it was short-lived as he quickly dropped his eyes back to his work.

Damn it.

After a few more minutes, you slowly shifted your left leg down ever so slightly—not enough for it to be too obvious, but just enough that someone like Cregan, who paid attention to every detail, would notice. You waited longer before making your next move. When you did, you dropped your knees, careful to keep your left hand in place, and arched your back in a stretch.

“Sorry,” you said when you returned to your pose and met Cregan’s gaze. His hand was frozen in midair. “My back was killing me.”

Pride surged through you as you watched Cregan uncomfortably shift in his seat. Clearing his throat with a nod, he resumed his task, which made you let out a soft chuckle.

I’m clearly getting to him.

But exactly how much?

Your eyes scanned his body, and you inhaled sharply when you spotted the slight bulge in his pants, and a dampness began to pool between your thighs. You smirked, knowing you still had a way to go in order for him to give you the reaction that you wanted. More time passed in silence, and you could tell that Cregan was nearly finished, so you enacted your final move.

You faked another yawn, stretching your whole body—both arms raised in the air, legs straightened but still apart, chest pushed out. As you returned to your position, you chanced a glimpse at Cregan and were satisfied with the look on his face.

His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape, his hand clutching his pencil tightly. The moment your eyes met, he snapped his jaw shut, glancing down at his paper, a deep blush creeping across his face as he tried to focus on completing his work.

You both chose to pretend nothing had changed—that you hadn’t just fully exposed yourself to your best friend, and that he hadn’t been caught with his mouth slightly ajar. But you couldn’t ignore the reactions it had caused. Cregan’s bulge was impossible to miss, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal it by awkwardly shifting the notepad in front of him, adjusting himself attempting to be discreet. The sight of the tent in his pants made the dampness between your legs intensify, and you fought to keep your thoughts clear, knowing that doing so would only provoke your body’s reaction further.

You stared at Cregan while he continued to work in silence, the man growing extra cautious whenever his eyes lifted from his page. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of giddy excitement as the end of the session drew near.

Your emotions were a whirlwind: anxious, excited, scared—and above all, an undeniable sense of arousal simmered beneath your skin. You knew Cregan could feel your gaze on him, your eyes tracing his broad form for any further sign of the effect you had on him. Still, he angled his body and sketchbook in an attempt to shield any obvious reactions.

Finally, Cregan set his pencil down with a sigh and let out a breath.

“It’s done,” he announced, finally meeting your eyes. “Would you like to see it?”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, a knowing glint in your eyes. Instead of slipping into the robe he had offered, you stood up and walked confidently toward him. Without hesitation, you came to stand above him on the couch, feeling the heat of the moment.

Cregan’s throat bobbed as he tried to keep his eyes averted, but it was futile. The sight of you, bare before him, had stirred something inside him—something he wasn’t sure how to handle, unsure of where the line was, and terrified of crossing it.

He had always harbored feelings for you but had been too intimidated to admit them. You were always so confident, never shying away from a challenge, and a shameless flirt, which meant you had the attention of all the men around you. However, outside of harmless flirtation, you never paid them any attention, instead focusing on your studies and spending time with Cregan.

You were a free spirit, a contrast to a more soft-spoken person like him. By no means was he shy, having had his fair share of relationships, but there was this effect you had on him that made him nervous around you. You’d been friends for years, and were comfortable with each other, but this was new territory. Uncharted waters. And he had no idea how to navigate them.

Movement in the corner of his eye pulled him back to reality and it took everything in him to keep his jaw from dropping. You had moved to stand beside him, leaning down to look at his portrait of you.

The way you were leaning over brought your breasts nearly level to his face, and he felt his pants grow tight. Here he was, struggling to maintain his composure, and stop the stream of sinful thoughts going through his mind, while you innocently admired his work. At least you pretended you were doing it innocently.

As you looked down at his work, your eyes flickered down to his lap, and you swelled with pride. He was hard. And you could tell that he was uncomfortable having you so close to him with nothing to cover you.

You decided to push things a little farther, and turned to face him, your breasts now fully in his face. Cregan gulped as he looked up at you, struggling to maintain eye contact, and held up his sketchpad.

“What do you think?” He stuttered, eyes straining to stay focused on your face.

“I think it looks really great,” you replied with a smile. “Although, I think you missed something.”

“I did?” Cregan questioned, concerned that he might have indeed missed something.

It’s now or never.

“Mhm,” came your reply, as you pulled the pad out of his hand and set it on the coffee table. “You missed something pretty obvious, actually.”

Not giving yourself time to back out of your plan, you swept a leg over his body and set yourself on his lap. Cregan’s eyes widened at the unexpected move, and it took great effort for him to control the lower half of his body from reacting as he instinctively set his hands on your hips to steady you. You nonchalantly sat on his lap, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down with every nervous gulp.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it looks amazing, and you did an amazing job,” you said. “But I think you might need some hands-on experience so you can get every little detail.” Cregan felt like he was having an out of body experience as you took his large hands and placed them on your chest. He let out an almost inaudible groan when you shifted your hips, rubbing yourself against his hardening cock, and his resolve began to crack.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, watching you place your hands on his chest and rock yourself against him with a small moan. The sound that passed through your lips made him throw the rest of his reservations out the window, and he began to knead your breast, running a thumb over your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, but it quickly turned into a yelp when he placed a hand on your back and lifted you, bringing you to sit eye level on his lap.

“I might definitely need a little more hands-on experience if I’m going to get this right,” he said with a flirtatious smile. “So, tell me, what other details did I miss?”

You grinned at him and leaned over, bringing your lips to his ear and taking his hand off your breast. He quirked an eyebrow in confusion until you lifted your hips and slid his hand between your thighs, your wetness greeting his fingers.

“This, for one,” you answered, nipping at his earlobe. You released a moan and put your head on his shoulder when he slid his fingers over your mound and glided them to circle your sensitive bud.

“Oh, shit,” you exhaled, as he applied some pressure with his thumb and moved two fingers to tease your opening.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “I think I’m starting to get a better picture of what I missed.” You nodded your head and let out another moan when he gingerly slipped a finger into your heat.

“I agree,” you huskily said, wrapping your arms around him and placing a hand on the back of his neck. You bit your lip when he flid a second finger in, and ran his other hand up your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your body was on fire. Here you were, sitting naked atop your best friend while he had his fingers inside of you. Never in a million years did you think that your dreams would ever become a reality, yet here you were.

You threw your head back with a gasp when he began to slowly pump his fingers.

In and out.

Enjoying the sounds of pleasure that he was drawing from you, Cregan added another finger and steadily increasing his pace.

In and out.

You were a mess.

Your body was on fire.

Your head was spinning.

You felt like you were floating.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any better, Cregan’s large hand clasped the back of your neck, and he pulled you into a heated kiss, your tongues battling for dominance. As the kiss intensified, you buried your hands in his hair and tugged, drawing a loud groan from the man.

Not wanting to be the only one receiving pleasure, you slithered a hand down Cregan’s chest and over his abdomen, until you arrived at the last barrier that kept you from your prize. Breaking the kiss, you looked down, and with trembling hands, undid his belt and pulled down the zipper, revealing the tent in his boxers that showed just how much of an effect you had on him.

“Fuck,” he growled and tilted his head back, as you brushed your hand against his hardness. His hand that was once on your neck was now on your waist, gripping it firmly, his other hand still buried inside of you but now motionless. You were giddy with excitement, as you wrapped your fingers around his length and pulled it out of his boxers, eyes widening at the intimidating sight of it.

He was much longer than you thought.

And much thicker too.

He was so thick, that your fingertips didn’t even meet.

And so long that you were sure he wouldn’t fit.

Swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, you began to stroke him. Cregan resumed his movements, driving his fingers into your heat with fervor, and matched your pace.

In and out.

Up and down.

In and out.

Up and down.

You recaptured his lips in a searing kiss, moaning into his mouth when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

You were in paradise, but it was not enough.

You wanted more.

You suddenly pulled away, and Cregan looked at you in confusion before you tugged the bottom of his shirt.

“Off,” you commanded. “Now.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he withdrew his fingers, pausing to lick your juices from them, before moving to discard his shirt. You felt a rush of electricity surge through you as you watched him lick his fingers, and your head filled with thoughts of his tongue delving into other places. Tapping your hip, you briefly stood as he moved his remaining clothes and rearranged his body and sat against the back of the couch. You took a moment to admire his physique, the broadness of his shoulders, the thickness of his arms from years of sports.

So.

Fucking.

Gorgeous.

Your ogling was cut short when he quickly pulled you to straddle him, his tip brushing against your opening, and you shivered at the contact.

Time seemed to stand still as you looked into each other’s eyes, his heated gaze burning with desire, and you momentarily lost yourself in the sea of grey. Unspoken words passed between you as he brought your lips to meet his in a tender kiss, the intimacy of such an action making your heart thunder in your chest.

Grasping him in your hand, you guided him to your entrance and carefully sank down, taking him in inch by inch. Cregan hands dug into your hips, and he had to hold himself back from pushing into you, knowing you needed to slowly adjust to his size as to not hurt yourself.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his thickness filled you, and you let out a wanton moan when you had finally taken his entire length. You took a moment to get used to how full you were and how you could feel him pulse and throb inside of you. Cregan brushed a hand against your cheek, tenderly cupping your face in his large palm.

“You doing alright?” he asked, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

“Mhm,” you answered with a nod. “Just give me a second. I feel like a virgin all over again.”

Cregan couldn’t help but laugh at your statement.

“Leave it to you to throw in a comment like that when I’m balls deep inside of you, babe.” You bit your lip at the term of endearment.

Babe.

I could get used to that.

“Shut up,” you retorted as you flicked his nose. Cregan chuckled as he gripped the back of your head and pulled you close, nuzzling your neck with his nose.

“Make me,” he whispered, teasingly nipping at your earlobe. In response, you circled your hips with a hum.

“Fuck,” he hissed, struggling to keep still and let you take the lead as you rolled your hips faster. Cregan’s breathing hitched as you changed your rhythm, gripping his shoulders for support as you lifted yourself off him until just his tip remained inside. His hands moved to your waist to help keep you steady, and as you sank back down, engulfing his manhood, he drove his hips up to meet yours.

You let out a wail as he took charge, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each upward push. You rested your head on his shoulder as he continued to pound into you, his strong arms securely keeping you in place, and you bit down when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. You were getting close, and from the way he was panting, you could tell he was too.

Cregan’s thrusts began to grow erratic, and he moved a hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your swollen pearl.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he cooed, angling his hips, and striking that magical spot. Your vision blurred, the thundering of your heart rang in your ears, and you saw stars. Your mind went blank as you gushed around him, throwing your head back in pleasure. His grip on you tightened, and he let out a grunt as his hardness twitched and he released his essence inside you, the tightening of your walls pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, digging your nails into his back and biting his shoulder.

The soft melody of music still playing in the background, and your synced pants were all that could be heard in the room as you both stayed in an embrace, coming down from the high of your powerful orgasms.

Just as you were about to close your eyes, Cregan stood, his arms under your thighs, and he walked you to his bathroom. Startled, you slung your arms around his neck to keep from falling, and he laughed at your bewildered face.

“Calm down, I’m just taking you to get cleaned up,” he informed you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

He set you down on the countertop and turned on the faucet, giving the water a moment to warm up as he pulled out a clean washrag from the shelf next to you. You silently watched as he wet the cloth and delicately began to wipe the remnants of what had just transpired off your skin. You were speechless, unsure how to react to such thoughtful treatment.

He’s such a gentleman.

Feeling your eyes studying him, Cregan stopped his movements and met your stare.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired, setting the washcloth on the counter beside you and putting his hands around your waist. You shook your head, still unable to form words. Cregan chuckled at your speechlessness and stepped out of the bathroom, returning with two bundles of clothes in his arms.

“Those are for you,” he said, gesturing to the pile as he pulled on a black long-sleeved shirt and pants.

“Thank you,” you replied, butterflies furiously fluttering in your stomach.

You had worn Cregan’s clothes before, usually because you would steal a sweater here and there when you came over during the winter, but this was different. You let out a giggle when you saw which shirt he had given you. It was a plain black shirt, a grey direwolf on the front, with the number one and “Stark” printed on the back. It was one of Cregan’s high school hockey shirts – the ones they would wear in lieu of their jerseys when off the rink – and it also happened to be one of your favorite shirts that he owned. You pulled the shirt on and walked out of the bathroom, finding Cregan splayed out on his couch flipping through his sketchpad.

You sauntered over and crawled between his spread legs into his lap, nestling your head against his chest, and closed your eyes.

“So, I don’t want to be friends anymore,” Cregan off-handedly remarked. Your eyes snapped open, and you lifted your head to look at him.

“What?” you questioned, chest tightening in panic.

Oh no.

No.

“Because I want you to be my girlfriend,” Cregan declared with a grin and flicked your nose, “obviously.” Panic turned into happiness at his words.

“You’re an ass,” you shot back, poking his chest.

“Yes, but you know you love me.”

“Sure. Whatever,” you quipped. “Maybe not so much anymore.”

“Don’t lie,” he said. “But there is something I think you should know.”

“What now?”

“I love you too,” he confessed. “Just don’t tell me I fucked something up in my drawings ever again.”

⟸ Man of Honor ❖ What Goes Around Comes Around ⟹

#cregan stark #tom taylor #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x you #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan x you #cregan stark x y/n #hotd cregan #hotd fanfic #cregan stark imagine

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readwritealldayallnight · 2 months ago

Text

Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

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offkilterkeys · 9 months ago

Note

You draw tavros ugly and you need to stop. Or be better. Because your fucking bad at it.

Oh I’ve actually been working on that!!!!

Okay so basically like half a year ago I realized I didn’t like my art style and decided to do some Homestuck art studies as a means of getting better at like anatomy and stuff, and that’s where the Tavros on the left appeared from.

After I’d gotten the hang of it I started to reintegrate some of my old stylistic choices, as seen by the Tavros on the right. But honestly I felt meh about both of them cause neither of them line up with my previous portrayals/personal view of the character.

(Old art, circa about a year or so ago^ Shows I used to draw Tavros with less of a lanky body and more fat.)

So I finally decided to buckle down and get the character right and this was the result!

Now I’ll be the first to admit that it’s probably not perfect, but I’ve finally gotten to a point where I like how I draw Tavros again!!!!

The og Homestuck style has like, a lot of variation, and hero mode is honestly wayyyy more vast of a “style” than people give it credit for. Personally, I like to refer to each Homestuck style more by act/place it appears in comic rather than just blanked “hero mode” or “sprite mode,” because I like to integrate THOSE specific influences into my art.

With Tavros specifically I’d like to say the rounder shapes call back to the mixed sprite/hero mode that we see in Tavros’ introduction, as opposed to perhaps Sollux’s introduction panels, where his limbs are rigid and angular, and definitely more “hero mode,” which causes one to view the character as lankier/skinnier.

Either way, I’m still working hard at getting good at striking poses and not falling into “same body type syndrome,” as is often far too easy to fall into. In the past I found it difficult to draw skinny/lanky characters because I wasn’t super used to it, and as of recently I’ve been doing them wayyyy more but I still have an easier time drawing thicker/fatter limbs and stuff. If you’ve got any criticisms or the like, I’m happy to hear them!!!! Always looking to get better eventually :p

#homestuck #tavros nitram #gotta tag the guys who appear in my old example art #sollux captor #vriska serket #jade harley #aradia megido #guys I’m not even lying I actually like squealed out loud whenever I got this comment #I’ve always wanted to get anon hate #BUT ALSO #I’ve always wanted to get people hating on my art!!!!#idk I just get so anxious from compliments #mean comments are so funny #that all being said now I go gotta respond to the nice comments #sorry guys!!!! I’m just easily intimidated that’s all!!!!

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cheriden · 2 months ago

Text

˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 needy streamer overload 」 ꜝꜝ

“‘Cause I don’t need a fucking mod anyway. I’ll deal with whatever comment is thrown my way because I’m not a pussy that needs to be kept in the dark.” If his solution is to fire you then date you, he may be as foolish as you feared. “You think that shit is easy?” You hiss, pushing him off you and onto his seat. “You know what people say about you, Beomgyu?” His body is trapped in between your arms, gulping down as you get close to his face. “They think you’re a fame whore who’s desperate for a click, and you should just slut yourself out for cash.”

── synopsis 。the boy from across the hall hired you to assist in his streaming and admits his feelings for you on his livestream

pairing 。streamer!beomgyu × moderator!reader

.ᐟ genre 。a bit of angst but it's sooo little and maybe i got sad thinking about the mental health of the streamer and the fan base

.ᐟ tags 。sub!idol (somewhat forced submission), switch!idol at the end, boss-worker relationship, co-workers, love confession, beomgyu is an attention seeker here (said lovingly), miscommunications and non-speaking terms, praise & degredation, name-calling, unprotected sex, creampie, a looot of dialogue, riding and missionary, an adequate amount of descriptive kissing

.ᐟ status & word count 。oneshot | 2.93k | masterlist

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。as always i did not proofread. reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns

The broadcast has barely started, yet thousands flood into the stream as Beomgyu fixes his headset. He stares at the chat box while hundreds of people send him praises and greetings, mouth curving upwards. You, on the other hand, are not having as great a time, mouse working double-time to ban and restrict hurtful profanities.

“Hi Bamtoris! Today’s a great day, because we finally reached our sub goal!” He yells and shakes the camera, jostling onto his seat as his energy stabilizes. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for all my viewers! Just you watching is enough to keep me going. As promised, we will be starting our Q&A stream!” He cheers, swiveling around with his head against his hand. “Up until now I haven’t really answered any questions about myself; I know you guys are probably curious about a lot of things. It’s only right that we get to know each other better~” You scoff at his poor attempt at fan service, watching him do every type of cute pose at the camera. It’s not surprising when his poor fans pick up everything that he puts out, losing their minds as you barely keep up with the comments that move at lightspeed. You’re sure he loves his fans; though it’s a bit annoying when you have to be on the receiving end of cross checking every line they have to say before they get to him. Beomgyu, being who he is, tries to spot any and every comment before you try to take it down.

The 30 minute mark rolls by smoothly, and right as you think about relaxing, you’re immediately jinxed as Beomgyu giggles, covering his mouth with his palm. “So you’re interested in my love life?” It catches you off guard, as you scramble to look for the user he’s pertaining to. Yet the damage is already done, unable to scroll back with the unceasing questions for follow up. “No, I’m not dating anyone right now.” You suppose it’s harmless in itself, riding on the hopes that you know what he’s doing. He’s allowed to see or date whoever he chooses, after all.

[right now?]

[yo??????]

[this is my time to shine fr]

[sorry guys, it’s me.]

“Actually… I’ve had a crush on someone for a while now.” He starts, pout replacing the grin on his face as he looks down, toying with his fingers.

[wait we’re seriously doing this rn?]

[is this a bit?]

[chat…what is going on]

“I don’t even think she likes me back, to be honest. She’s really indifferent to me.”

[she broke ur heart?? My baby:((]

[im going to kill her] (deleted)

[how could she ?? ur so sweet!]

“No, no.” Beomgyu shakes his head, “It’s really professional of her to be honest. She knows how to separate work from personal business. She keeps me safe, and is always there for me, like you guys are!”

[does she know you like her lolll]

[confession stream?!]

[ain’t no way…]

[whooooooooooooooooo?!]

He grins, building suspense by drumming the table. “She’s been a great help to all of my streams. My savior, my guardian angel, my one and only mod!”

You cough violently, reaching the far end of the table for your water bottle. What the fuck is he on? You fail to catch the rest of his confession, his words numbing your ears as you're frozen in place.

[LMFAO]

[BRUHHHHHH]

[don’t date her plz, i would actually shoot myself.] (deleted)

[fr is this a prank]

“Calling her “Mod” is a bit dehumanizing, you think?” He ponders, “I don’t think I should call her by her real name on stream, so what do we suggest, chat?”

[mod-nim? idk]

[angel! like you said earlier<3]

[bitch]

[you said we would get married. Fuck you stupid cheater choi beomgyu] (deleted)

[anything you like!]

[u should ask her..]

“I like Angel!” He replies, clapping his hands. “I think it suits her—my Angel.” You’re barely functioning, on the edge of your seat as you try to predict what he says next. “That’s all the time I have today, bamtoris. What do you suggest we do for our next sub goal?”

[baking stream!]

[those 24 hour streams hehe]

[strip game lol] (deleted)

[house tour]

“Okay, I’ll host a poll for the most popular replies later! Stay tuned my babies~ See you–and thank you again for two thousand subs!” With that, he waves at the webcam, throwing kisses onto the camera as he clicks end livestream. You waste no time, exiting your apartment and knocking on his studio across from yours frantically.

The front door opens with a wide grin plastered on the other’s face. You sneer, shoving past him. “What the fuck was that?” He drops onto the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “I take it you did not enjoy today’s work?” Your chest heaves rapidly, feet planted near the doorway as you try to string together a coherent (and professional) sentence. “Angel, I’m allowed to have my own life outside of work. That includes my love life, which does not concern you or my viewers.” He practices the nickname, turning his head to face you. “Does not concern me? You have a fucking crush on me! Your fans would go ballistic if you actually dated someone.” He scoffs, “Are you saying people only watch me not because I’m entertaining but because of my face?” You shake your head, leveling with him on the sofa. “Beomgyu, I would never say that.” The other’s eyebrow is raised, expecting a catch. You so desperately wish to shelter him on this topic, even if it’s a half-truth. “I’m saying your viewership is over 60% female. It wouldn’t hurt for you to–” The laugh that exits him is hollow and unamused. “You want my fans to delude themselves into thinking they could get with me?” You place your hands on top of his in an attempt to de-escalate his temperament. “No! But as long as you’re not taken—” They’re swatted away, and he recoils. “It’s implied!” You gulp. “Fine. Yes, it helps them hold on to the sliver of hope they have.”

“Then I’d be profiting off of their parasocial perception of me.” A hint of guilt makes its way to his expression, one that you mirror. You hadn’t hoped to be part of such a cycle that takes advantage of the emotions of an individual. “You could have worded it more nicely. They’re your fans.” The shame on his face stiffens up into annoyance. “You were the one who put the ideas in my head!” You turn away from him. “It’s what happens to all streamers, Beoms. You build rapport, a following and that’s how they come back.”

His face is buried in his palms, clicking his tongue as he ruffles his hands through his hair. “Get out.” Your face falls, “What?” He pushes past you, opening the door. “Get out. You’re not my boss, you work under me.” He hisses, nostrils flaring as opposed to the stiff composure he tries to put up. “You check my schedule, you clean my inbox, you edit my vods. You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do.” Through clenched fists, you take in a deep breath, trying your best to keep your own calm. Though perhaps your own anger and panic is laced with a bit of hurt. Beomgyu has never gotten pissed off at you, no matter the circumstance. “Fine. If that’s how you feel our workplace terms should be, then that’s the protocol I will follow” You reply. A lump gets caught up in your throat and nearly chokes you as you turn to him. “You’re right, you’re the boss.” You murmur, tight-lipped. The door slams behind you louder than you intended, but you shake it off and trudge back to your apartment.

A few streams have passed since your verbal altercation with Beomgyu, minimal contact held on both your ends. His last text was a screenshot of the poll results he promised his viewers and you gulp down at the landslide of votes asking him to do a strip game. Would this take a toll on his mental well being? The silent confirmation that he’s being looked at for his physical appearance and not for his content? Your fingers hovered over the keyboard overlay, drafting messages to ask if he’s fine, to tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

But you’re neither his manager nor his PR team, and now you’re not even sure if you have the right to talk to him as a friend. You revisit the chat, texting a short “stream starts in 10” and he replies with a thumbs up emoji.

You don’t know what game he’s playing, but you’re sure as hell not participating. Cross-armed, you slump back in your seat as he plays a first person shooter, with each death prompting him to take a piece of accessory or clothing off. He’s layered in a dramatic amount of jackets and coats, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at how comical he looks. But you pull yourself back to Earth, your screen indicating his next death. He clicks his tongue, taking off one of his coats.

Beomgyu’s right. He’s smart, and he would never do anything to jeopardize what he has worked so hard to achieve. You watch him argue with the comments about cheating and how socks don’t count because nobody couldn’t see it anyway, simultaneously deleting serious comments about buying said garment. You reassure yourself that he’ll do what is in his best interest for him, even if you subconsciously note the change in his playstyle, a little more risky and miscalculated than it usually is.

However you hold out, arms glued to your sides and trying your best to bury yourself in your chair as he takes off his shirt. He’s in a top, thank goodness, and it seems to do wonders for his image as his viewers go crazy for his physique. You yourself have to admit that for someone who complains about putting in the effort to work out, his figure fairs prettily. You clutch the table in annoyance when he dies a pointless death right after respawning, opting him to be stripped bare for his chest area. How many deaths has he had in two games? Even the comments are questioning his skills, something that was previously glossed over as people assume it was from getting used to the mechanics.

“I really suck at this character.” Beomgyu pouts, shimmying what you assume are his shorts off camera. He looks over the chat while waiting to be revived, body facing away from his main screen. “Yeah, I’m only in my underwear now. Such a shame, on my last game too.” He snickers, resting his head on his palm.

What the fuck was he doing? He’s not seriously thinking about getting naked live, is he? “You want to see? My chat is a bunch of perverts.” He says playfully, turning back to the game. “Oh shit. I lost.” The comments cheer as he closes the game, lightly swiveling in his chair. The camera is taken off the tripod and into the boy’s shaky hands. “Oh well, A promise is a promise!” He beams, and you lunge out of your seat, running over to his studio. All the doors are unlocked, and you’re not sure if it’s a blessing or a red flag, but you bust into the studio and pull the plug on all of his devices. “What is wrong with you?!” You bark, throwing the heavy coats on top of him. Your seething contrasts the smirk on his face as he pulls his shorts up. “I knew it, you care about me.” Your mouth falls agape, blinking and laughing like you’ve gone insane. “Are you genuinely stupid? You’re my boss. You would’ve ruined your life, Beomgyu.” He shrugs, slumping against his seat. “I never would’ve shown my dick, obviously.”

“You could’ve had like–whatever the nip slip equivalent is for this.” You shriek. “Calm down,” He says, acting as if you were the unreasonable one. “I had it under control, alright? If anything, you caused the commotion.” The air hangs in an uncomfortable silence, until you start laughing again. “Me?” He doesn’t find it funny. “Yes, you. People will think I have a girlfriend, and you were so against that idea before, right?” You’d like to punch that cocky grin off his lips, gaze narrowing at him. “Did you do this on purpose?” He shrugs again, pursing his lips. “Wanted to see if you would stop me.”

You shake your head, pivoting yourself out of the room. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He grabs at your wrist, eyes solemn and serious. “I care about you—can’t I want your care for me, even if it’s over something as stupid as this?” You do nothing but gape back at him, and he pulls you in closer, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Face it, you like me, even if it’s not like that.” You roll your eyes. “You’re such an egoist, Beomgyu.” He pays no mind to your insults, “What I want to know is why you only delete comments that talk shit about me, and you ignore the ones dog-piling on you.” Your brows pinch in confusion. “”Cause it’s my job to protect you, fuckface. My comments don’t matter.” He’s quick to dismiss you. “That’s not true, and it sucks when I see you put yourself down like you don’t matter. Even if you say you don’t like me, I like you. That shit affects me too.” You scoff, violently removing his grip on you. “That’s such bullshit. Those comments were for one live and don’t mean anything to me.” His face contorts into a mix of amusement and disbelief. “They don’t? Not the ones that called you a bitch and a user?” Your gaze is stuck on the floor, refusing to give him any satisfaction over the topic. “What about the ones who called you all those slurs and a nympho, they don’t even know you.” You clear your throat. “Well, it shouldn’t matter to you, because it’s none of your business.”

His gaze softens, “You are my business.” “No—you’re my business, and I work for you. That’s all.” Your expression is sharp and blank, staring right into him. “Is that what’s keeping you from being with me?” He exclaims, gears turning in his head. “‘Cause I don’t need a fucking mod anyway. I’ll deal with whatever comment is thrown my way because I’m not a pussy that needs to be kept in the dark.” If his solution is to fire you then date you, he may be as foolish as you feared. “You think that shit is easy?” You hiss, pushing him off you and onto his seat. “You know what people say about you, Beomgyu?” His body is trapped in between your arms, gulping down as you get close to his face. “They think you’re a fame whore who’s desperate for a click, and you should just slut yourself out for cash.” You don’t miss the way his alarmed stare flickers to your lips. “I defend you from shit like that every time you open your camera, and you think it's as easy as ignoring a few trolls? Even your own fans joke about it.”

“Though looking at you now, you’re just as dirty and trampy as they make you out to be.” You wedge your knee in between his crotch, and he falters at the contact. “If you’re a pervert who gets off shit like this? Maybe you’ll be just fine after all. Fuck, maybe you can even make a living out of it.” He slumps over your leg, resting his cheek on your thigh with heavy breaths. “Please—” He chokes out, and you tilt your head curiously. “Please what?”

“Please make it better.”

You snatch the waistband of his underwear and tug it down to his thighs, eyes screwed shut as his dick hits his stomach. Beomgyu groans at the cool air that hits his skin, replaced with the warm slick from your cunt. He looks up at you panting over him, brows furrowed as you try to sink further on him. Without warning, he bucks his hips up into you, making you fall down onto his lap. Tugging his hair back, you glare at him. “Don’t. Move.” You hiss. The other whines in response, gripping on the arm rests and burying his face between your neck. You huff, digging your fingers into his shoulders as you sink deeper. “I can’t–you have to move, please move or else—” “Or else what?” You cut him off, “I’m the one doing you a fucking favor here. So you’ll take what I give you or I'll take it all away.”

He’s fully situated in you, but you still aren’t moving—and it’s driving the brunette insane. He starts rolling his hips slowly, and he was pretty sure you didn’t notice until a small whimper leaves you. His gaze locks in with your own—eyes watering and lips quivering as you try to remain calm.

With one swift motion, Beomgyu hoists you up to his hips and drags the both of you onto the bed. He lets you down gently onto the mattress, planting a kiss on your forehead as he drives himself deeper into you.

The both of you don’t say anything for a while–-the room filled with shaky breathing and whimpering, along with the squelching from where your bodies connect. His hips suddenly stutter and snap into you, causing you to moan loudly. His hands move from your thighs to take hold of your face, kissing you like his life depended on it. You yelp when he bites down, prying himself into your mouth. He starts thrusting faster, raking the sides of your torso with his tongue still lodged in your throat. Out of the blue, he pulls himself off you, watching the way your pussy sucks his cock in and out. “Angel, you’re so pretty…So pretty when you go dumb on my dick, that smart mouth of yours can’t keep up with me.” He sighs, pressing his thumb on your clit. Your legs try their best to close but he spreads them further apart, bending down so that his chest is sitting on yours. “So pretty, thinking about nothing but me. I wish you’d always think about me.” He mumbles mindlessly, “I love you.”Your cunt clenches at his words, and you’re sure he feels it by the way he arches his back into you.

He picks up his pace again, whining and babbling incoherent phrases. He tells you he loves you over and over again, before cutting himself off. “I-I’m close, can I cum inside?” You nod feverishly and he smirks, kissing the tip of your nose. “So cute, eager for me to fill you up? I’m at your disposal, angel. I’ll give you anything and everything you want.” He rushes, kissing the sides of your face until you come around him, inducing his own orgasm as he rides both of your highs out, white strings overflowing to the base of his dick and the inners of your thighs.

“So...” He starts, drumming his fingers against your thigh. You turn to him, lips in a pursed line. “So… You’re actually in love with me.”

Beomgyu makes a deadpan expression, dropping his shoulders. “I thought that was clear already from like, the million times I told you.” Trying to face away, you shuffle against the bed, but he holds your waist and pulls you close to him. Still, you refuse to meet his gaze. “Well, words are just—words.” Your phrases make him petulant, circling over the dip of your skin with his thumb. “Well, I do mean it.”

“I know I just— I don’t think—you’re a public figure, Beomgyu.” The sulk on his face deepens, a successful attempt to make you pity him. “I’m still just me. Completely separate from whatever facade I choose to show the rest of the world.” He says, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be yours, as Beomgyu, not some mega-talented and skilled streamer.” You scoff at his never ending confidence, shoving him away from you. His face beams when he lightens the mood. “So?” You raise an eyebrow, “So?”

“Do you want to try,” He gestures between the two of you, “this?” He can visualize the gears turning in your head, and he has to admit to himself that he’s scared of your answer. You release your bottom lip from your teeth. “One date.” He flips over to rest on top of you, resting his face on your chest. “One date and a hotel.”

You scoff. “One date until dinner.” Pouting, he mumbles, “I thought that was implied.” You giggle, combing your fingers through his hair. “One date with a dinner, and if it goes well we’ll see where that gets us.”

“Deal.”

thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs, and tags for support towards the algorithm appreciated♡

sorry this took so long i totally forgot about it until i got a dm asking me about it xd

─── 〔 𝒎.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 〕

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yujinnieswifeu · 3 months ago

Note

Hello can you write bottom reader using venom pheromone perfume on hanni to see her reaction and wear a quite seductive outfit for a prank for reader YouTube chanel reader follower name is jjin [jinjin]

Smut if you want and g!p if you want too

Btw hanni is just a few months younger than minji who is 20

Thank you in advance

a/n: Going to put these two together :3

Pairings: sub!fem reader x dom g!p Hanni

Warnings: smut, Hanni has a dick, lots of teasing, deep throating, creampie, Hanni can’t control herself here🥴

a/n: hii again anon!! Thanks for requesting yet another really interesting req, was rlly fun to write :3. Btw, can you send me to req u wanted me to work on w Haerin, still waiting for it since i deleted it the other time my bad🥹

———————————————————————

You were rushing to get everything in place. With your girlfriend, Hanni home anytime soon, your heart was racing as you were finding a good place to settle your phone so she could not see you recording for your shared youtube channel. “Come on…” You muttered anxiously to yourself, bending to check if your phone could be seen from the bed, sighing in relief when it couldn’t. It was around this timing when she would come in and you quickly put some of the venom pheromone spray on yourself, explaining to your audiences on the challenge for today. “Hey fellow jjins, i need to be quick but i’m spraying the famous venom pheromone spray on myself to see how my girlfriend reacts, and to be honest it smells really good!”

The sound of the doors opens and you let out a small gasp, quickly scrambling over to the bed, posing yourself over the bed to look good for Hanni to see her reaction. You looked to where your phone was for a second, seeing it slightly in view at your direction and knowing Hanni would not be able to guess this was a prank this time as you smirked to yourself. “Baby?” You could hear her voice, muffled by the room walls and you bit your bottom lip nervously. When she didn’t hear you respond to her, she thought you were probably napping as she walked to your shared bedrooms, opening the door to see you spread over the bed for her instead and she stands at the door, breath hitching.

Immediately, the smell of you engulfs her, and she starts sniffing. “Baby…why are you…and what is that smell?” She was apparently breathing a little heavier now, her body suddenly feeling a little hotter than usual and she could feel the sudden tightness in her office pants as she looked at your outfit. “Why are you wearing just this…” she looks over the room, trying to find the camera but she couldn’t find anything suspicious, before letting her guard down as she walks to you. “Mm..you don’t like it?” Your voice suggestive as you looked up and down at her, noticing how her pants were slightly tighter than usual as there was a visible bulge now between her legs.

When she was in front of you, she took your hand, the scent of you filling her nose and she sniffs your wrists. “God…what did you put? You smell so good.” She mutters, her eyes closing for a second before looking into yours, her eyes seemingly darker than usual. “It’s a new perfume baby, you like it?” She nods her head, humming before she bends her body, her head immediately nuzzles into your neck as she let out a soft groan. “Baby..” she mutters again, slowly grinding against you, and your breath catches in your throat. You didn’t intend it to go this way as you look over your phone, knowing you had to stop this halfway.

“Hanni..w-wait..” you lift her head, watching as she pouts cutely, her needy face almost makes you give in before you stood up to reach for your phone, quickly stopping the video only to feel Hanni’s hand snatching the phone from you. “You were recording?” She groans, brushing her hair back with one hand now and raising a brow at you. “Yeah..it was supposed to be a prank.” You bit your bottom lip playfully, and she rolls her eyes. “I was trying to find the phone…but now, i have a better idea.” You watch as she starts the video again, and your heart race. It wasn’t the first time she had taken videos of you two doing the deed, but it was rare, and yes, you two agreed that it will stay in your computer and locked into an album only for Hanni since she says she was always so needy for you whenever you weren’t home.

“I’m in the mood baby~” she rasps, taking a step closer as her lips brushes against yours teasingly. You let out a small whimper, eyes looking up at her with want. “Go to the bed love.” She orders and you quickly walk to the bed, posing seductively for her as she places your phone at a place that was able to see you two. When she walk back, she unzips her pants very slowly, tormenting you as you whine out for her. “Hanniiii..” she gigges at your state, leaving it unbuttoned before joining you on the bed, crawling over to hover her face over yours. “You look so good…smell so good too..god.” She groans, her head dives down to your jaw, kissing the spot there as she darts her tongue out to drag it down your neck, groaning softly as she grinds her hips against yours, hearing a soft moan spilling past your lips when her clothed shaft rubs against your lingerie.

“Wearing this…tempting me…bad girl.” She hisses, littering kisses and hickies all over your neck, hearing more moans and whimpers escape your lips. She pulls away, her eyes locks on yours instantly as she drags her hand teasingly up your hips, hearing you whimper. “Words baby.” Her voice was lower this time, as she stills her hands at the sides of your breasts, her lips ghosting over yours. “Please Hanni..touch me.” You begged, and you watch as her walls falters, her hands going over your back to unclasp your bra, lips instantly over yours kissing you hungrily. You feel her grinding her hips over yours again, hands cupping your breasts as her fingers worked wonders circling over your now hardened nipples.

You knew she was still teasing with how slow she was going, your hands trying to remove her shirt and pants before she stops you, her hand grabbing yours to pull them over your head. “H-hanni..!” You whine and she smirks at how needy you have gotten for her. “Regretting now are we?” She teases and you pout cutely at her. She smiles teasingly, straddling your hips instead to remove her top, she was agonisingly slow again, her eyes still locked on yours, the way you were breathing heavily, the way your nipples were hardened and the way your eyes were pleading with her to go faster was making her cock throb painfully.

When she finally removes her top, she reaches down to masturbate her own cock, watching as your lips part ever so slightly, hands gripping at the sheets as you swallowed hard. “You want this baby?” She taunts, and you nod your head eagerly. She places your hand over her clothed erection, feeling you palming her now hard cock. “You know what to do right?” She asks, her voice filled with lust as you immediately slides her pants and boxers down, placing it beside the bed. You lied down on the bed again, watching as she hovers herself over your face, brushing her tip teasingly over your lip, coating your lips with pre-cum. “So pretty..” she groans, before pushing her tip past your lips.

You immediately take her in, feeling how she thrust herself into your mouth, moaning softly with her eyes locked on yours as she takes in the view of you taking her cock in your mouth. “S-shit..so good..your mouth is just made for me.” She groans, her hand brushes in your hair as she thrust herself deeper inside of your mouth, making you gag around her cock. The feeling of her using you for her own pleasure makes you squeeze your thighs together, feeling your walls wrap around nothing and your clit throbbing almost painfully now as you whimper around her cock which sends vibrations through her body instead.

Her hips stutters slightly, knowing she was close as she speeds up her movement, watching how your eyes get all teary for her as she cums inside your mouth, stilling her cockhead deep in your throat, forcing you to swallow her load. “S-so good..” she pants, pulling away to watch as some of your drool strings connecting her cock and your lip. It makes her cock twitch again, going down your body as she spreads your legs for her, her eyes look to see how wet you have gotten from her teasing. “So wet..and all for me?” She says breathlessly, tracing a finger down to spread your wetness over her finger, before bringing them over to her lips as she tastes you on them.

“P-please Hanni…need you.” You beg again, eyes now glossy with tears from sucking her off, the taste still lingering in your mouth. She brushes her fingers teasingly over your clit, eyes locking on yours. “What do you need hm?” She asks, feeling your hips stutter against her fingers, before pulling them away to hear another whimper escaping past your lips. “N-no more teasing please…want you inside of me please.” She could almost come from your words alone, her cock now painfully hard again as she slaps her cock over your clit, hearing you moan and whimper for her. She spreads your legs further, thrusting her hips as her cock rubs deliciously against your clit, she groans softly, wanting to capture this on her phone as she quickly grabs it to take a video of herself rubbing her cock between your folds.

“This feels s-so nice..looks so good.” She babbles, feeling the need to cum again before she stills, not wanting to cum yet as she stops the video on her phone and shuts it down. “Please..please Hanni..can’t take it.” You whimper, teary eyed now and she wipes your tears from your face. “I know baby..i’m going to put it in now okay?” You nod your head, feeling her slowly enter you, her cock immediately slipping in from how wet you were and she groans into your neck. The smell of you driving her crazy as she thrust deep and mercilessly inside of you. You wrap your legs around her, eyes rolling back from the feeling of her cock hitting your sweet spot as your fingers tugs at her hair. She moans softly against your neck, sucking the skin there as she leaves more marks along your neck, only to be rewarded with the sound of you whimpering.

“You’re so tight…i-i’m going to cum inside.” She says breathlessly, her breath fanning over your skin and you beg her to spill inside of you. The thought of it makes you clench around her even more, and with one last thrust, she comes inside of you, moaning your name as her face nuzzles into your neck. The feeling makes you cum as well, body trembling under her. She moves her hips slowly, riding out your shared orgasms before stilling again.

After seconds, you feel yourself being manhandled as she flips you on your front, and she takes in the view of your back. “H-hanni?” You stutter out, feeling her cock humping against your ass this time. “Mm..one more for me okay?” It wasn’t really a question as she has your hands locked above your head , littering more kisses behind the back of your neck as she inhales the scent of the perfume and you.

It definitely was the work of the perfume.

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diamond-champagne · 4 months ago

Text

Hell of a Show (Prelude)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: In which Paige puts on the performance of a lifetime

Warnings: Angst but not with Pazzi

Sold-out on the marquee, my name is up in lights

A line's wrapped 'round the building

Paige laced up her sneakers and tightened her ponytail before standing and making her way into the tunnel for final introductions and entrances. She wipes her hands nervously on her shorts before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

The blonde can hear the chants of the crowd and feel the bass of the music vibrate through the room.

“Paige! Paige! Paige!”

“A six-foot guard from Hopkins, Minneasota - Paige Bueckers”

She runs onto the court and the chants only get louder.

A camera is at every angle, capturing the moment for those watching from their living rooms. She performs her signature smirk before greeting her teammates.

Homemade t-shirts and homemade signs

It's everything I've wanted, I'm lucky as can be

They stand in a huddle, running through plays and whispering quick affirmations before tipoff. Paige scans the crowd and notices too many t-shirts with her name on it and even more signs.

The fans deserve the very best of her.

She deserves the very best of her. This is all she’s ever wanted.

Paige is blessed to be here.

And I'm on stage in twenty and he's so damn mean to me

They deserve all of her yet, someone took most of her. Because here she is, in Gampel, living her dream, doing what she loves, and all she can think about is how mean her girlfriend has become.

The blonde scolds herself for not being in the moment.

Tipoff is in five and she needs to focus.

Keep it together, I can keep it together

Paige plays her heart out. At least, she thinks she does. At least, she tries to.

The W is secured by a buzzer beater in the last 3 seconds.

For the room full of people here who love me better

Than he could've, or would've and should've, I know

Her family is here and so is Azzi’s. They swarm the two basketball players with praise and congratulatory sayings before taking a few photos.

Paige smiles in every photo and laughs at every joke. She isn’t ready for them to know.

The blonde doesn’t think she’ll be able to stomach how disappointed they’ll all be in her when they find out that she isn’t as strong as they think.

I guess you could say I put on a hell of a show

“P, are you okay? You seem off.” Azzi asks. Her eyes gleam with pride at the win from tonight. Her smile is bright and sincere.

“I’m just a little tired and very hungry.” Paige exclaims, laughing. It garners laughter from everyone around her.

They can’t know.

'Cause I'll smile and I'll sing and I'll wave and repeat

Smile for the camera.

Wave for the fans.

Pose for the photo.

Laugh for the families.

Repeat.

The routine gets her through the night. It’s exhausting, even more so than usual. Because Azzi knows her better so she needs to be better.

Act better.

And tonight I'll cry myself to sleep

Paige slumps in her bed alone after showering the day away. She’s on the brink of sleep when her phone lights up with two notifications .

Veronica

I guess that injury really did set you back.

Azzi 💗

Best player in the Nation, P!

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #uconn wbb #am i okay?

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doctorbitchcrxft · 5 months ago

Text

Houses of the Holy | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: MNDI 18+ ONLY, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT, breast play, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl pls and thanks), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, clit spanking, descriptions of religious trauma (there’s a lot of talk of the two things you should never talk about in here: religion and politics)

Word Count: 5892

A/N: need i say it again, goodbye, minors!!! Be gone!!! please!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Every twenty or so minutes, you reloaded the FBI’s database you’d managed to tap into. You were getting incredibly anxious about Dean’s presence on their radar following the bank “robbery” the week prior.

Sam went out to pose as a psychotherapy nurse to interrogate a woman whose personality seemed to have changed overnight after killing a man, claiming an angel led her to do so. You were placed on “Dean duty” after Sam insisted his brother stay here to avoid being seen. You were right on board with that idea, but you needed to stay behind to make sure Dean didn’t go stir crazy and leave stupidly.

A thousand thoughts swirled through your head as you wrote in your journal.

“When I was on my own, I was a fucking expert at staying away from police,” you wrote. “Now, suddenly, I’m on cases with these two where every time I turn around, a cop is on my ass. I’m not super crazy about that idea. However, I don’t wanna leave them. They’re my best friends, and I know Dean is something more to me. I don’t wanna give that all up just because I’m starting to sweat a bit, y’know?

“I am not one to shy away from trouble, and I’m loyal. Those are two qualities I’m super proud of,” you continued writing, “I just am worried. And I feel like that’s completely normal. But it’s a different kind of worry. I’ve never had to be concerned about two other people when I’m hunting. This is the first time I’ve had partners who are just as good as I am. And I’ve never cared about my partners this much. And in a way, that sucks.

“And what the hell was I thinking promising Sam that I’d kill him if necessary? Am I out of my fucking mind?? I don’t know what I’d do if Dean hated me. But I’d still rather him hate me than hate himself. I can go it alone again. I really could. I just don’t think I want to.”

You dropped your pen and scrubbed a hand over your face before pulling it through your hair.

“Sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean groaned from the other end of the room. He was laying on a vibrating motel bed with his headphones in his ears. He’d been obsessively fueling the “Magic Fingers” machine with quarters.

You headed over to him just as the bed stopped vibrating.

“Damn, that was my last quarter,” he huffed, taking his headphones out of his ears. He seemed not to notice you until that moment. “Oh, hey.”

You sat on the bed next to him, and he was still laid out in the center of the bed on his back.”Whatcha need?”

“You,” he said, smirking.

You laughed as he pulled on the ends of your— his— shirt, trying to get you to lay on top of him. You happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him. Between kisses, you giggled, “Dee, we already fucked this morning. You’re seriously ready again?”

He hummed against your lips. “Always.”

You rolled your head away from him. “I have sex with you once, and suddenly, you’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirked. “You’re gorgeous.”

You faux-pouted. “That’s it?”

He rolled on top of you and kissed up your neck. “And smart.” He kissed you again, moving to your left cheek. “And badass.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “And sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I hate how much I need you.”

You mocked offense. “Why do you hate it?”

“ ‘Cause I don’t like to need anyone,” he replied.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I need you, too.” You leaned up to him and pecked his lips before leaning back down on the pillows. “And not just sexually,” you clarified.

He chuckled. “Same here,” he told you earnestly.

You grinned widely, pulling him back down to your lips by the nape of his neck. He eagerly bit your bottom lip before trailing his lips down your neck. He sucked a dark spot on your collarbone, making you tug his hair and moan. He groaned against your skin before hiking the shirt up your body, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Still sensitive from your activities earlier in the morning, your back immediately arched into him and you keened, encouraging him to keep going. He switched to your other breast and chuckled as you continued writhing underneath him. “Wonder if I could make you cum just like this,” he said, looking up at you.

“Stop teasing, Dean,” you whined, shoving his shoulders down to your pussy.

“Hmm, but it’s so much fun,” he replied. Dean skimmed his fingers down to the band of your underwear, playing with the hem. You sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath him. “Why would I do what you want when this is so much more enjoyable for me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Dean!” you cried out. “Please!”

“Fine,” he responded. The man above you pushed your panties down your legs before dipping his fingers into your cunt. “So wet for me already?”

“Fuck you,” you murmured in embarrassment.

He tsked. “Is that any way to talk to the guy who made you cum three times this morning?”

“It is if he’s being a fucking tease,” you replied, running your nails over his abs just above his V-line.

He groaned at your actions before grabbing your wrist and pinning it next to your head. “Now who’s being a tease?” Dean used one hand to pin your wrist above your head and the other to grab your other. He pinned them above your head, instructing you to keep them there.

He moved back down your body, stopping when he reached your core. He eagerly ate you out like a man starved, and your hands flew to his hair. He immediately stopped.

“What’d I say?” he asked gruffly.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, grabbing the headboard above you to keep your hands there.

He moved back to your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you grip the headboard tighter. “Fuck, Dean!” you cried out.

He curled two long fingers inside you, groaning at the slick pooling between your thighs. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as he hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers and continued harshly sucking your clit, every now and again swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck, fuck, please, I’m gonna—” And then he was gone. “What the fuck?” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“You don’t get to come until I say,” he growled. “You understand?”

You nodded eagerly, still white-knuckling the headboard. You spread your legs wide, fully displaying your pussy to him. “Fuck me, Dean.”

His hand came harshly down on your clit. You yelped in surprise.

“You don’t make the demands here, I do.” He spanked your clit one more time for good measure before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them in earnest, closing your eyes as you licked them clean. Dean groaned at the feeling and freed his fingers from your mouth, gripping your throat as he bent down to kiss you.

Before you knew it, Dean’s cock was inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. He sheathed himself fully inside you, and you locked your legs around his hips. He rocked into you roughly, each thrust making you come more and more alight.

“Can I touch you?” you breathed out. “Please?”

“Beg,” he replied, still keeping his thrusts even.

“Dean, please let me touch you. Please, please, I need to touch you,” you groveled through shallow breaths.

“Hmm…” he smirked, rolling his hips into yours roughly.

“Dean! Please! Please!” you cried, gasping. “I need to feel you, Dee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can,” he said.

You were on him in an instant, one hand in his hair and the other winding around the underside of his shoulders. You kissed your way down his neck and nipped at the base of it, careful not to leave any dark marks; even though you really wanted to. Dean’s pace began to falter as you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“Cum with me,” he instructed you. He reached down to your clit, drawing rough circles, before burying his face in your shoulder. “Cum with me, now, (Y/N).”

You came with a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing into you suddenly. Your legs locked around the base of Dean’s spine, keeping him inside you as he came. You moaned again at the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out, causing you to whine at the loss. Dean laid on your bare chest, breathless.

You took a few minutes to linger in this feeling which you decided was your version of heaven. No monsters, no fighting, no police run-ins— just Dean laying on your chest, breathing in time with you. However, you knew Sam would be coming back any minute now.

“Dean,” you said, trying to wiggle out from under him.

“Hm?”

“We gotta get up, Sam’s gonna be back soon.”

“Who cares.”

“Me!” you squealed as his grip tightened around you. “I don’t really want Sam to see my bare tits!”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts, nuzzling your left one with his cheek. “But I wanna keep lookin’ at ‘em.”

“Dean!”

“Alright, alright.” He finally let go of you, and you pulled your clothes back on. This time, you put your jeans and the shirt you wore before you and Dean fucked for the first time that morning to avoid Sam knowing what had been happening. You headed back over to your laptop, and reloaded the FBI’s database page.

“What is so important over there?” Dean asked, coming over to you.

You turned your laptop to face him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna drive yourself crazy lookin’ at that.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested,” you scoffed.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You looked away from your computer and back up to him with big doe eyes.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Dean growled.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you don't,” he replied.

Despite your earlier activities, heat flooded once more between your thighs. “Dean—”

At that moment, Sam burst through the door. “Hey.”

Dean jerked away from you, and you awkwardly returned to the computer in front of you.

“So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?” Dean questioned, scratching the back of his neck.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was... touched by an angel?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace.”

You scoffed. “Definitely completely sane. What about the guy she stabbed?”

“Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil,” Sam explained.

“Was he?” Dean asked.

The brunet shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer.”

Dean paced around, all-business mode. “Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, phew, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?”

“No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?” Sam countered.

“Well, little odd, yes, supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“ ‘Cause angels aren’t real,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N), there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted,” the younger brother reminded you.

“Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass,” Dean grunted.

Sam sat down across from you, deadpanning, “Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?”

“That's cute,” Dean monotoned, “I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under ‘bullcrap’.”

“And you've got angels on the bullcrap list.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’ve never seen one,” you chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “So what?”

“So I believe in what I can see,” Dean argued.

“Dean! You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about.”

“Sam,” you started, trying to mollify both brothers. “I think that’s his point. We can actually see that stuff. Hard proof, y’know? We don’t have hard proof of angels.”

“This is a– a demon or a spirit,” Dean continued. “You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe.”

“Can we just— I'm going stir-crazy, guys. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?” Dean begged you and Sam.

“I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF…” Sam trailed off.

“You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?” Dean deadpanned.

“But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway,” Sam huffed.

Dean perked up at that notion. “Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out.”

“I don’t love that idea, Dean. Please… stay here, okay? Sam and I can handle it,” you argued.

Dean groaned. “(Y/N), I’m going fucking crazy in here. Please?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

He went to say something again.

“No. Sam, you’re on Dean duty. I’ll be back in a few hours,” you stated firmly.

“(Y/N)—”

“Dean,” you warned. “I’ll bring you back some beers, okay?”

He huffed.

“I’ll throw a burger and some quarters in there, too, okay?”

Dean huffed again, but said nothing in response.

You tugged your boots on, and Sam tossed the keys to you.

“Not a scratch, (Y/N),” Dean told you firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

***

About two hours later, you returned with a six pack and burgers and fries for the boys.

“Oh, (Y/N), thank god,” Sam exclaimed when you returned.

“What, has he been that bad?” you asked.

“I’m right here, y’know,’ Dean grumbled. “You bring any quarters?”

“Told you I would.” You chucked the roll of quarters and his car keys back at him.

You put the six pack down on the table and began distributing the food between the brothers.

“Woman, you’re fucking awesome,” Dean groaned as he took a bite of his burger.

Sam laughed. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Well, Mr. Gully had some pretty dark secrets,” you began. “I found three sets of bones buried under his house. Poor babies were kids from the local college who disappeared about a year ago. And get this; all of ‘em were last seen at the library.”

“Sick bastard,” Dean grunted.

“So Gloria's angel—” Sam started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“Angel?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever this thing is…”

“Whatever it is, it's struck again,” Dean jumped back in through a mouthful of food.

“What?” you questioned.

“Dean hasn’t put down the police radio since you left,” Sam told you. “There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?” you asked.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it,” Dean quipped. He took a post-it note off the mirror. “Now, I, uh, got the victim's address.”

“Dean—”

“(Y/N), I am not staying here again. Just this one thing? Please?”

“No, Dee. I’m not taking that risk. You have got to lay low,” you insisted.

“(Y/N), how are you gonna stop me from doing my job?”

“Because if it involves putting yourself at risk, then it’s not happening,” you protested.

“My whole job is risk,” he argued, stepping closer to you. “There’s just… an added level now.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to be that much more careful. Especially considering we have the feds on our ass. I’m not letting this happen,” you shot back.

“Hate to say it, Dean, I think (Y/N)’s right,” Sam jumped in. “I’ll go check out the vic’s house. (Y/N), stay here.”

“Fine by me,” you said.

Dean grunted in aggravation, and flopped down on the bed after putting a few quarters in the Magic Fingers machine. You knew he’d probably stay angry with you for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes of silence and when the rumbling came to an end, you spoke up again. “Dean,” you sighed. “I’m not trying to be a huge ass, okay? I’d be angry with me, too. But this is just… It’s a lot. And I’m trying to keep you boys as safe as possible. And I wanna help Sam with this case, but I can’t if I’m worried about you not staying put, okay?”

Dean didn’t respond, and you thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. At least, that was until you heard him murmur, “Okay.”

*** Sam informed you and Dean that the most recent victim had been planning to meet with a thirteen-year-old girl. Your stomach turned when he told you, and Dean looked like he would’ve kicked the guy to hell and back given the opportunity. Sam also told you that both victims went to the same church called “Our Lady of the Angels.”

“That’s funny,” you’d commented.

Following last night’s conversation with Dean, you felt more comfortable leaving him to his own devices. And so, it was up to you and Sam to go talk to the priests at said church.

“So you're interested in joining the parish?” the priest, who’d introduced himself as Father Reynolds, asked you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Where'd you say you lived before?”

“Fremont, Texas,” you said without missing a beat.

“Really? That's a nice town,” Fr. Reynolds noted. “St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there.”

“Yes, sir. He’s wonderful,” you nodded.

“You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father,” Sam broke in.

“And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here.”

“Hey, listen, I gotta ask,” you began hesitantly. “No offense, but uh, the neighborhood?”

Fr. Reynolds sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off.”

“Yeah, we, uh, heard about the murders,” you acknowledged.

“Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years.”

Sam quirked his head to the side. “And the killers said that an angel made them do that?”

“Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic,” the priest sighed.

“So you don't believe in the whole ‘angel’ thing?” you questioned.

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe,” he chuckled. “Kind of goes with the job description.”

Sam nodded toward the painting on the wall. “Father, that's Michael, right?”

“That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil.”

“So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?”

“Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified’,” the priest finished.

You nodded sagely. “Luke two nine.”

The priest seemed surprised you knew that. “Yes, actually.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “My, uh, my mom was a pretty zealous Catholic,” you explained as Fr. Reynolds began leading you out of the door. “She’d quiz me on the bible verses every now and again.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes on you while you began heading down the steps of the church.

“Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father,” the brunet said.

“Oh, it's my pleasure. Hope to see you again,” the priest nodded.

You noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps; candles, flowers, pictures, and rosaries. “Hey, Father, what's, what’s all that for?”

Fr. Reynolds deflated a bit. “Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.”

“Was?” you questioned.

“He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt,” he explained.

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you told him.

“Yeah, me too.” The priest couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from his friend’s memorial. “He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out.”

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose,” he replied.

“Thanks, Father. We’ll see you around sometime,” you nodded solemnly. He headed back inside.

“Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there,” you noted.

Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“And he knew all the vics, because they went to church here,” you continued. “In fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew. Reconciliation and all that jazz.”

“Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?” Sam countered.

“Sam,” you sighed. “I know you wanna believe, but I’m not really sold on this whole ‘angel’ idea. Why do you seem so convinced?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But I do know that I pray. Every single day. I have for a long time.”

You startled a bit. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What made you stop?”

“Well, like I said, my mom was always a bit of a zealot,” you began. “And… let’s just say I saw how well prayin’ worked out for her.”

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look.

“C’mon, let’s go check out Fr. Gregory’s grave.”

Sam followed you down to the crypt. It was a bit of a maze of stone hallways lined with numerous stone angel statues. You headed a little ahead of Sam deeper into the crypt. You turned back when you noticed Sam wasn’t behind you, and then suddenly felt the ground beneath you shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured before running to where you thought Sam may be. “Sammy?” you called. “Get the rocksalt out—” You halted momentarily when you noticed Sam’s slumped over form on the ground. “Hey! Sam! Wake up!” you cried, grabbing his face in both your hands. He jerked awake as soon as you touched him. “You okay?!” you asked worriedly.

He looked past you at the angel statue behind you. “Yeah. Yeah. 'm okay.” He seemed a little startled.

You helped him to his feet and led him into the sanctuary. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, (Y/N), I saw an angel,” he said.

“You—” You shook your head, unsure how to approach this situation. “So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?”

“It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace,” he explained.

You swallowed harshly, feeling suddenly unsettled. “Wh—” You laughed uncomfortably.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you, it spoke to me. It knew who I was,” he said.

You shook your head. “Spirits can do that, though, y’know that, right?”

Sam didn’t seem convinced.

“Okay, let me guess,” you tried. “You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam nodded.

“Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?”

“Actually I did, (Y/N). And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will,” Sam nodded.

You started pacing. “I don’t believe this.”

“(Y/N), the angel hasn’t been wrong yet!” Sam protested. “Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!”

You scoffed. “You’re supposed to do something awful, too. Does that mean I’m just supposed to nuke you right now?”

“Y’know what? I don't understand! Why can't you and Dean even consider the possibility?”

“What, that this is an angel?”

“Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!”

“Y’know what, Sam, if that’s what you believe, fine,” you sighed. “If faith is what helps you sleep at night and brings you a little peace, then, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But I cannot rationalize worshiping a god who’s gonna condemn me to a pit of fire and suffering for the simple fact of non-belief. I mean, think about it, man. He knows exactly what it would take to get every person to believe, and he still chooses not to show it to us.” You began to pace faster. “And, and? Why would homosexuality be the thing he chooses to put his foot down on? And if you are this great and good god, why is that love wrong? And if people believe in other religions, why does that mean they’re going to hell? What if they’re Buddhist and an exceptional person; they still have to go to hell? Hindu? I don’t fucking get it, Sam. And if my options are going to heaven with all the churchgoers— who are mostly hypocrites and these fuck-os who are abusing kids and murdering on Tuesday after just leaving church the Sunday before, then send me straight on down to hell. I’ll take eternity with actually decent people over these yuppies and troglodytes any day.” You stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed shocked. “It’s okay,” he said, despite himself.

You huffed, scratching the back of your head. “Anyway, I got some hard proof we’re dealing with a spirit.” You led him over to Father Gregory’s grave. It was crawling with mangled vines, and you crouched down in front of it.

“That looks like—”

You cut Sam off. “Wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Maybe?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said honestly.

You sighed. “Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“We'll summon Gregory's spirit,” you responded simply.

“What? Here? In the church?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just need a few odds and ends and my journal for a séance ritual.”

“Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available,” Sam quipped.

You deadpanned at him, “Cute. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest.”

“But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then we’ll know for sure. And then I can grovel in front of Michael or Zachariah or Castiel or whichever the hell angel it is and beg for their forgiveness before they smite me.”

“The hell kind of angel’s named Castiel?” Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Angel of temperance and serenity. Not traditional Catholicism, but I digress. I told you, my mom was a complete Jesus-freak,” you snorted. “Alright, let’s go get my journal. Hopefully Dean’s still there. I swear to god, I’ll send him to hell and back if he’s not.” *** Thankfully for Dean, he was right where you’d left him. He looked bored out of his skull, but he actually listened to you. “Jesus, how fuckin’ long does it take to talk to a priest?”

“Not right now, Dean. Sam’s a little, uh, possessed? Cursed? Don’t know what the right word is in this situation. Divinely inspired?” you continued.

“What? He saw it?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t have time to rehash all this. Now, Dean, you comin’ or not?” You turned to the elder brother.

“Wait, you’re letting me out?”

You scoffed. “Dean, you’re not a hostage. C’mon. We could use the help especially now that Sam’s been angel-drugged.”

Dean chuckled.

“What?” you asked.

“Sam got touched by an angel,” he snickered.

You burst out in laughter, and Sam just deadpanned.

***

Your next stop was a small grocery store that you hoped didn’t have security cameras that would be able to identify Dean. Sam bounded out of the store holding a paper sack and chuckling. “Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We'll just put it Spongebob-side down,” Dean shrugged.

Sam’s laughter subsided suddenly as he stared at someone across the street.

“What is it?” you asked him.

“It’s him,” he replied. “That's the sign!”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Right there, right behind that guy! That's him, Dean. And we have to stop him,” Sam pleaded.

Sam started after him, but you and Dean held the giant man back.

“Wait a second,” you stated.

“What are you doing? Let me go,” Sam grunted.

“You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?” Dean hissed.

“Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Define ‘stop’, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?” Dean pressed.

“Dean, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it.”

“Alright, come on,” Dean said finally. You moved to the other side of the car, and Dean quickly shoved you down into the backseat.

“Dean. Unlock my door,” Sam commanded, still standing on the sidewalk.

“You're not killing anyone, Sam. (Y/N) and I got this guy, you go do the séance,” he nodded.

“Dean!” Sam called after you, but Dean was already pulling away. He followed the man who’d been holding the yellow flowers down a short distance down the street before the guy stopped in front of a girl. She got in the car with him, and your heart sank as you climbed into the front seat.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmured.

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean gripped the wheel tightly and started trailing the blue car again.

The allegedly evil man soon turned down a dark alley, and you temporarily lost sight of him. Dean cursed, “Dammit!” and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Dean, Dean, follow him, c’mon,” you begged, and he slammed his foot on the gas, turning down the alley he thought he’d seen the man head down. Thankfully, his guess was correct, and you and Dean quickly ran to opposite sides of the man’s car. You could hear the young woman crying and the man shouting at her as you approached. Dean punched the window, and you took that as your opportunity to quickly pull the girl out of the car.

“Are you okay?” you asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Thank god!” she cried, surging forward to hug you.

You called to Dean as the man sped off in his blue car. “Dean! I got her, you follow him! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Dean nodded, sprinting back to the Impala and following the man out of the alley.

“Did he do anything to you?” you asked her.

She shook her head, still crying.

“Do you have any friends nearby? I’ll walk you to ‘em,” you told her.

The woman nodded. “Yeah, um, my friend—” she hiccuped, “my friend Sarah lives around here.”

“Okay, can you call Sarah? Let her know you’re on your way?”

She nodded again, and you rubbed her back with your hand to soothe her while you started walking toward her friend’s apartment.

You got to know her as you walked to help her calm down and distract her from what had just happened. Her tears slowly subsided, and you seemed to have calmed her down by the time you arrived at her friend’s apartment complex. She hugged you tightly after announcing the two of you had made it.

“Thank you so much,” she told you.

“Anytime,” you told her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She nodded and headed up the front steps. She turned to you when she reached the door, waving goodbye one last time.

***

You somehow managed to get back to the motel. Surprisingly, Sarah’s apartment hadn’t been too far from it. You only needed to walk about thirty minutes before you stumbled upon it.

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door to the Winchesters’ room. Both Dean and Sam were packing. “How’s everybody doin?”

Sam looked demoralized. “You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory. I don't know, guys, I just, uh—” he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to believe… so badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And there's so much evil out there in the world, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up—”

Dean sat next to him. “Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you.”

The brunet smiled. “Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” you asked.

“Maybe I could be saved.” He suddenly realized what he admitted and chuckled nervously. “But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it's funny you say that,” Dean said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time.”

“What happened to him?” you questioned.

“He's dead.”

“Did… Did you?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No. But I'll tell you one thing. If— The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean— I don't know what to call it.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? Dean, what did you see?”

“Maybe… God's will.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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lingerina · 1 year ago

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝓡𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 // kim minjeong

➛ gp prisoner!minjeong x prison warden fem!reader ➛ pwp, g!p, panty gagging, hair pulling, use of handcuffs, mating press, implied multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie ➛ 1k words ➛ you’re shown who’s the real prisoner here.

💬 a belated birthday present for the most deranged beloved winter stan @wintersera ♡

Nightfall has long shrouded the city in darkness, but what’s the difference between night and day when your work environment is darker than midnight woes?

You aspire to be like your aunt: authoritative, firm on her feet, and can rattle fear in even the toughest men.

Because unlike her, you’re soft. You fall apart when someone raises their voice at you. You may have gotten slightly better at keeping your chin up but you’re nowhere near your aunt’s level. A part-time job you worked in high school improved your social skills, so a challenging job where you may deal with some hardheaded individuals—like being a prison warden—should be able to toughen you up even a little bit, right?

You amble down the cell hall with a flashlight in hand. Most of the prisoners have fallen asleep, but you have a specific cell to visit.

Not that you need to.

Your eardrums almost vibrate from the deafening thumps of your racing heart, your clammy hand squeezing the flashlight to your chest as you come close to your destination.

Once you reach her cell, you shine the light directly into it and find her, Kim Minjeong, sitting in a chair in the middle of the small enclosure. Slouched, legs crossed and outstretched, and arms folded over her chest as she arches her brow, she smirks.

She has you wrapped around her finger, and you make no opposition.

“I thought you’d never come,” she chuckles.

The clank of the cell door locking reverberates. Maybe the cellmates several doors down can hear it, but you still wince due to how loud it is in your head. Not only does the pin-drop silence amplify every little sound, but you’re concerned that the prisoner you deliberately locked yourself in with may hear your heart threatening to leap out of your chest, and take advantage of your fear.

And excitement.

“Don’t be shy now. Come take a seat.”

It’s shameful.

You acknowledge your weakness, but you didn’t realize just how low it can go. There’s no excuse for you to engage in relations with a prisoner, but something about Minjeong draws you in.

She’s gorgeous. She shows no sign of inflicting violence on you and doesn’t look down on you as some ‘little girl posing as a guard’. Though she’s heavily flirtatious, she still treats you like a human.

Except in this very moment where your own cuffs are around your wrist and your mouth is stuffed with your soiled panties. She was quick to get rid of your clothes, which have been thrown aside, but she still has her uniform on. You had taken a seat on her lap when she offered and now you’re bouncing on her cock. She’s occupied by your chest, curious hands squeezing your tits together while her lips are latched onto a nipple, sucking and tugging and flicking it with her tongue. Whenever you started slowing down, she’d tangle her fingers through your hair and tug.

Hard.

“Come on, baby.” She pouts. “You can do better.”

Except you can’t.

You’re certain you can’t. Your thighs are shaking—burning—and you can’t control your hands. You can’t balance properly, and you can’t rest for a second. Your pleas and grunts are muffled by the fabric gag. You look utterly pathetic, but Minjeong doesn’t sympathize. She only utilizes the power she has over you.

When you don’t improve, she carries you to her bed and tosses you down. Landing on your cuffed wrists is not ideal but you don’t dwell on it for too long when she presses your legs up to your chest. The pressure of your thighs being crushed against your abdomen nearly folds you in half. A new angle is offered and your eyes immediately roll back as she fucks you.

Her hips don’t slack. You feel the force of every thrust stretching you open and hitting all the right spots. You practically feel her in the pit of your belly from how hard she’s pounding you. Fortunately, the darkness masks your late night rendezvous because you know that one look into her piercing eyes would have you falling apart. To be looked at like prey is to experience a swift downfall.

You like being her prey.

You didn’t get to recuperate after your previous orgasm, so your next one quickly hits you. It crashes over you in waves and you gush around her cock, creaming her with a messy release. She groans as she’s forced out of your squirting pussy, the ample wetness soaking the edge of the mattress and spilling to the floor. You were certain you didn’t have that much to give, but she always proves you wrong.

She will always get as much as she wants.

You’re spent. Shaking. But never mind that. Minjeong is quick to slide back into you, courtesy of your overflowing slick, and your cunt is subjected to another round. You feel so close to breaking. You try to escape her grip but what use is there when you’re cuffed and possess only half the strength that she does?

Who’s the real prisoner here?

“Oh fuck,” she grunts between gritted teeth. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fucking come, and you’re gonna take it all.”

Fulfilling her promise, she bottoms out. You’re beyond full of her dick, and now the warmth of her release floods your insides, filling you up in ways that no one else can. She draws back, then shoves back in, pushing her cum deeper into you. Slow and steady thrusts like that leaves your head spinning.

She slowly removes her softened cock with a delighted sigh, and you feel her cum dribble out of you. It pools onto the sheet beneath you and you lay there lifelessly, trembling and panting.

You hear the sound of a zipper. Minjeong didn’t step out of her uniform so it should be easy for her to fix herself up. You, on the other hand, have been completely unraveled. It will take much longer for you to get yourself together.

“You can rest a little more, but don’t stay in here for too long.”

She gathers your clothes and gently sets them at the edge of the bed. “Don’t wanna get caught fucking your prisoner, do ya?”

You laugh once you catch your breath.

“… When do you get out again?”

#girl group smut #girl group imagines #aespa imagines #aespa smut #winter smut #winter imagines

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tyunn1ngz · 7 months ago

Text

beomgyu nsfw alphabet

cw: lots of afab!reader but no gender stated

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

likely u will have to give him aftercare, appraisals and reassurance along w lots of physical touch but he'll give that all right back!!!!! tell u how much he loved it; loves u <3

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on him and his partner i think his and ur hands!!!!!! hand kinks rise!

loves how big his hands are compared to urs, but how easily u can overpower him hehehehe ʕ •ᴥ• ʔ loves watching his own pretty fingers disappearing when he fucks them into u, watching how just the curl of his fingers can make u throw ur head back breathlessly; murmurs of how good he's doing falling from ur mouth :3c

loves watching your hands when u touch him any and everywhere— but he especially loves ur fingers curled around his cock, jerking him off <3

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves to cum on ur tummy the most methinks or sometimes his own when either ur riding him or no penetrative sex is involved at all :p loves it MOST when u drag ur fingers thru the mess and feed it to him; how humiliating

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

definitely gets off on ur scent sometimes and humps ur pillows when ur not home. he poses it like he's just very on top of keeping all ur linen freshly washed! but u know better— but he doesn't have to know u know !

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

not at all—anything he knows is from porn. has some idea of what he's meant to be doing but he's dumbed out before u can even properly start so ur definitely going to have to help him out and guide him through it gently

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

in general, any position that lets him see ur face, not only so he knows what brings u the most pleasure based on ur change in expression but because ur just soooooooo pretty and he really needs to kiss u all the time <3 however when he's particularly needy, i can imagine he'd love doggy the most, chest pressed to ur back as he ruts into u like he's in heat, no real rhythm to his hips all that matters is having u close w as little space as possible >_>

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

pretty serious but only because all that's in his little puppy head is 'please please please' sometimes though there's giggly days, just soft intimate moments with no real dynamics or anything close, just laughter and pleasure hehe

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

keeps himself well groomed but doesn't really care that much, doesn't make much of a difference to him so it's not the neatest or anything. also do y'all remember those pics tho where he had a teeny lil stubble >_> imagine that on ur thighs when he— [TRAIN PASSES BY]

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

veryyyy romantic; always holding ur hands, brushing ur hair from ur face to make sure he can see u properly, spouting 'i love you' almost every 30 seconds— the whole shebang sex is another form of love to him

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jerks off a lot if he's not with u or ur simply not in the mood; or even when u just want to watch him get off for u he's so down for that too (づ￣ ³￣)づ doesn't feel as good as if it were u but he loves making himself feel good nonetheless!!! especially if u watch

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

what kink wouldn't he have at this point ,,,,, somno one of his biggest ones, followed right by pet play. play into the maltese puppy thing more beomgyu it doesn't look suspicious at all (also rough him up he'd like that)

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

probably just in the bedroom, but if there's somewhere not too risky u want to try he'd probably be willing!! i can definitely see him loving u teasing him anywhere and everywhere though— hands on his upper thighs under the table, breaths on his neck and ears, dirty words only he can hear—just not the sexual acts themselves anywhere people will actually see ;p

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

anytime u take initiative or become possessive and/or bossy. almost like a pavlovian response when u get a little snappy or commanding, even if its not towards him— immediately squirming and pressing his thighs together and praying for his cock to stop aching over such silly trivial things. u wanna take ur frustrations out? he's waiting!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

again nothing to cause him or u serious harm, but probably not too many hard limits. he does prefer when ur nicer to him, bossy but nice. hit him around all u want but make sure he knows he's a good boy for it (⌒ω⌒)ﾉ

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he would prefer giving but he's never EVER opposed to receiving. u could probably be the worst at giving head but this boy's thighs will be shaking like his soul is about to leave his body and he'll be pleading to cum in ur mouth. will only let u go down on him if he's gone down on u first too, which does come to a little problem when he's already cum from humping the bed while he moans into ur cunt but hey! such an eager thing he's ready to go again so quickly so don't sweat it too much <3

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's fast and rough bc he becomes so dumb and pathetic, completely drunk off pleasure, so u'll have to force him to slow down. if u even want to that is ;p

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

hes sensitive enough that every time u guys have sex its probably by definition a quickie but he can go enough rounds u probably wouldn't actually consider them so.... so love them i guess?

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes absolutely he trusts u so much and he's loved everything u've had to show him abt sex so he's open minded to a lot when it comes to u hehehe!!! even if he doesn't end up liking it, he feels safe trying at least once w u and telling u when it comes down to it that he doesn't want to do that anymore. bare minimum but important!!!!!!!!

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

doesn't last very long but can go several rounds(⌒ω⌒)ﾉ will go for as long as u want him to in all honesty, no matter how tired he gets what a good boy

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

vibrators, puppy ears and tails, collars, harnesses for when he gets pegged and maybe gags even; all to use on him <3

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn't tease u at all, fleeting touches maybe but just to rile u up just a little— he's not really looking to get punished. however!!!!!! as much as he whines, he loves u teasing him.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

tries to be quiet, he really does, but he's so sensitive it's just hard!!!!!!!! low moans, husky w his deep voice but sometimes he sounds like he's outright sobbing and his breath catches on a pretty little hiccup </3

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

really into the idea of u bending him over ur knee one day and spanking him til he cries but isn't sure how to say it; starts to lean into acting out if it means he'll get what he wants eventually ┐('～`;)┌

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

BIG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he is BIG :3c but doesn't know how to use it—at least not at first anyway. just ruts and humps with no proper rhythm until u pull his hair through ur fingers and tell him how to fuck u properly

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

really high. like puppy in rut high. grinds into u and cums in his sleep kind of horny levels. sedate this guy!

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he falls asleep pretty fast because he practically becomes a puddle in ur arms when u cuddle him after the fact. ur hands in his hair, caressing gently over all the marks u've left on him, gently kissing the crown of his head— he's off to dreamland, but he's so warm and practically purring in ur arms w how he hums happily that it's easy to follow him there!!!! <3

#txt hard thoughts #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts

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