#i’m an aisle girlie

[dashiellqvverty]

just opened the waffles i bought on saturday and discovered i bought PLAIN instead of blueberry im so mad. but you can understand how i made the mistake

[stevebabey]

11, 23, 35, 57 for the Spotify wrapped game

11. cigarettes out the window / tv girl

23. the reflex / duran duran

35. fantasy / mariah carey

57. good for me / above & beyond

send a number & i’ll tell u what song i got for spotify wrapped?

[zepskies]

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family. 

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked. 

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror. 

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started. 

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)

🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Smoke Eater Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

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@chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

[dollishbabess]

Do you do batfamily? I literally love your profile aesthetic and I think it would be really cool something like girly reader who is the youngest in the batfamily, I think it would be funny the boys dealing with her and everything. ily🤍

“I PRESSED HIDE ICONS BUT I CAN STILL SEE ME” ── .✦ DOLLISH ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

A/n: this literally made me laugh but tysm ily too, but literally i tried to balance this with sass + a girl who likes pink and other colors instead of stereotypical pink girly girl and etc but if this is not correct then sorry because i only have one sister and a brother and i’m oldest out of all of them.

tags: batfamily x girly!batsis

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The manor is, of course, dark and filled with heavy, old-fashioned furniture. Meanwhile, you’re room is beautiful with subtle hints of pink decor and white, and a beautiful walk in closet, and your room is the only spot with cozy, neutral decor and soft pinks, which you somehow convinced Alfred was “tasteful and happy”

Bruce pretends he doesn’t notice the little decorative changes you make around the house, like the rose-gold lamp in the hallway or the fresh flowers on the dining table. Alfred, though, secretly loves it because it makes the place feel a little less like a ‘depressive episode’ (I’m convinced if someone suicidal went in that manor they would likely fucking commit at this rate).

“CINDERELLA ARE YOU FUCKING READY?!” ── .✦

When you go to family dinners or galas, the boys have come to expect that you’ll need at least an hour to get ready. They used to complain, but now they’ve just accepted it (even if it means sleeping while standing up waiting) And you’re always perfectly dressed, from your hair to your jewelry.

Tim once asked why you had to wear rings on your ring finger without being married, and without missing a beat, you responded, “Because I need to let people know I have style standards, maybe you can learn a or two about fashion, your dressed like a fucking caveman.”

“ITS EXPLAINABLE” ── .✦

Alfred has somehow become your unofficial shopping partner, knowing all your preferred stores and patiently sitting outside the fitting rooms. He’s the only one who will willingly go with you without complaint, and he even knows which colors you like best

Once, Bruce was caught off guard by a credit card alert because it was awhile someone spent THAT much money and asked Alfred about it. Alfred just responded calmly, “It was for necessary purchases, Master Wayne,” even though the “necessary purchases” included a ton of “designer” things.

── .✦

Damian once challenged you to a chess match, thinking he could beat you easily. Halfway through, you made a risky move, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “You’re about to see a queen move.” Damian lost, and he’s still confused about how it happened.

One morning, Dick said, “Isn’t it a little early for all the glam and glitter?” You just gave him a look and said, “Isn’t it a little late for you to be alive, your social security number is probably one.

YOUR BEAUTY PRODUCTS BECOMING A ATTEMPT ON PEOPLES LIVES ── .✦

Bruce has almost tripped on your eyelash curler twice. The family has also officially banned you from putting skincare masks in the fridge after Jason mistook your green tea gel eye masks for some kind of salad topping (the worse part is… he ate the whole thing and didn’t realize until he went shopping trying to find the exact one until he found it in the skincare aisle instead of the salad dressing aisle…)

Tim opened the wrong drawer in your room once, and it looked like a makeup frenzy had exploded. Lip glosses, nail polishes, tiny skincare samples, and sheet masks cascaded out, and he just stood there, baffled by how much one person could need, (he thought you ran a business for a few days after.)

── .✦

You also gave Bruce a mini heart attack when you told him you wanted a different laptop because “this one’s too boring.” The Batcomputer tech isn’t boring, but you wanted a rose-gold case and “a vibe,” so Bruce ended up ordering one in the exact shade you wanted.

The family group chat is complete chaos. You regularly send pictures of quotes from romance novels, and the occasional inspirational meme with sparkles. Once, you sent a photo of the living room and asked, “Could we get some lighter curtains in here? For my aesthetic and mental well being?”

Whenever someone’s late, you flood the chat with passive-aggressive texts like, “Jason, do you know what ‘be here at 6 PM’ means?” or “Dick, if you’re any later, I’ll be old enough to vote for Kamala at this rate.”

MOVIE NIGHTS ── .✦

You insist on watching rom-coms and dramas instead of the usual action movies. Even though the boys groan, you’ve noticed they secretly enjoy the movies by the end. Tim tried to deny it, but he was caught laughing at a scene in white chicks and you swore to never let him forget it.

Once, you convinced them to watch a “fall aesthetic” movie marathon, complete with hot chocolate and fuzzy blankets. Even Jason joined in, and you teased him the whole night, whispering, “Don’t pretend you don’t love a good blanket.

THE OFFICAL FASHION GURU FINALBOSS 💜 ── .✦

You’ve taken it upon yourself to occasionally “advise” the boys on their fashion. If Tim wears a hoodie that’s “two shades too close to ‘depression’ ” you’ll be the first to tell him. You even convinced Damian to try a collared shirt once, though he looked horrified.

Dick gets roasted the most. He walked out wearing cargo shorts once, and you deadpan, “Going for the ‘i’m so old i saw humans evolve’ look i see.” He didn’t change, but he was clearly a little self-conscious the whole day (he never wore cargo shorts ever again…)

SKINCARE TIPS ── .✦

You’ve taught the boys some random facts they never knew, like the importance of hyaluronic acid for skincare and the difference between ballet flats and loafers. They pretend to brush it off, but you’ve overheard Jason giving roy skincare advice using the tips you shared.

When Bruce had a minor scratch on his face from patrol, you casually handed him concealer. “Just dab, blend, and don’t tell anyone,” you said. He followed the instructions without a word (he used to do that before, just impressed you also knew)

THE BABY OF THE FAMILY ── .✦

As the youngest, you know how to work the “baby sister” angle like a pro. The boys are fiercely protective, and any time you need a ride, money for something “totally essential,” or help with homework, you can count on one of them stepping up.

Once, you asked Damian to grab something from a high shelf for you, and when he hesitated, you hit him with, “Guess i really am alone without a good brother..” He ended up grabbing it for you with a grumble, but you swear you saw him smirk.

@dollishbabess made by me, do not translate, or repost or copy.

Second divider: @cafekitsune, other dividers not sure I kinda forgot sorry

[thoughtsforsoob]

grocery store runs together 🩷 txt ver.

note: just went on a Walmart run and had so much fun. I feel so old just enjoying shopping at the grocery store but that’s okay. I could be spending on dumb stuff but I’m not 😉 anyways please enjoy. shout out to my girlies who love grocery shopping!!

yeonjun

definition of “oh this looks good *throws item in the cart*”. He has a very loose sense of what he needs so he just walks through all the aisles and tosses whatever he wants at the moment in the cart. He lets you pick anything you want, especially different sweets and pastries. He secretly loves when you compare prices and all that other stuff. he’s not sure why but it just makes you seem even more like wife material to him.

soobin

very organize and brings his own reusable shopping bags (they’re bunny print. I don’t make the rules). he loosely follows a shopping list that he keeps on his notes up and updates it throughout the week. he will follow you on all your little side quests through the store so you don’t have to be alone. your grocery store runs are like little dates to him. he enjoys the domesticity of it.

Beomgyu

does not make a list ever. goes in with a cart and hopes of remembering what was missing in the fridge. even if he had a list, he would never stick to it. he gets so distracted by random little snacks and always forgets to grab something important. he’s so grateful that you back him up and save his ass all the time (aka: you make a list so he doesn’t have to go back to the store a second time).

taehyun

he goes in with a shopping list and sticks to the list. he lowkey gets a little annoyed when you wander off and then grab 100 things you don’t really need. he won’t verbalize it but he kinda side eyes you when you show him everything you found on your side quest. he gets over it pretty quick because he loves hearing you yap about the little cat treats you ended up finding for his cat. overall, a very enjoyable experience.

huening kai

You have to have him fugitive out what he’s missing. when you arrive, you grab a cart and start walking but after making a whole lap around the store, there nothing in your cart! You turn to kai, “hey, didn’t we come because you needed food?” He quickly remembers and gets shy. He was so excited to be out with you that he forgot he was grocery shopping. He’s so adorable so he can get away with being forgetful.

[fioiswriting]

Unholy

Summary : During the prestigious Targaryen family's annual charity gala, your boyfriend's stepfather decides to make you pay for the consequences of your actions. Perhaps you should have been more careful before entering this little game.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Jace’s girlfriend!reader (reader appearance isn’t specified)

TW : p in v sex, dom/sub, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, unprotected sex, size kink, spanking, inappropriate use of the word kepus, cheating, age gap (!!), fingering, mirror sex, pwp, (light angst at the end), modern AU, Daemon being Daemon, not proofread 

Words count : 9379

AN : hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well! So. Sorry it’s just a 9000 words concentrate of filthy smut. I’m ashamed. But enjoy anyway.  (I need to write for Aemond again but my gf is a Daemon girly so blame her for this smutty thing <3)

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The Targaryen family's annual charity Gala promised to be particularly grandiose this year. More spectacular. More lavish. More ostentatious than ever.  The budget had been spent on decorations, that was certain, and it was only a matter of time before guests began to stream down the stately aisle leading to the reception hall.

It was an annual event that no one could avoid, despite the tensions that were tearing the family apart from within, a kind of routine that had set in year after year. 

And this Gala pissed Daemon off.

He had better things to do than smile at a bunch of assholes, listen to a bunch of idiots talk about their uninteresting lives and pseudo-successes that he couldn't give a shit about. Not to mention the fact that the mere thought of being in the same room as Otto Hightower made him break out in hives. 

Rhaenyra had explained to him that it was for their image, but Daemon thought that was completely stupid. Since when did his reputation and his family's image have to depend on fake polite smiles and superficial bows?

Everything pissed him off, starting with Otto fucking Hightower, with whom he had to share his table for an entire evening. Rhaeyra had slipped away for a moment to prepare to give the opening speech at her father's side, like the heiress of Targaryen Corp that she was.

The interior of the building was large. Well decorated, illuminated by large chandeliers whose light enlarged the room. The designer - Alys Rivers or something like that - had good taste, Daemon had to admit. Waiters circulated among the guests, offering glasses of champagne or cocktails to the wealthy families who had gathered. Prestigious guests, certainly, but most of all a bunch of hypocrites, according to Daemon. He could feel all eyes on him. Spying on his flaws. Spying on his every move. Every scandal that might make the headlines in the morning.  Like he was going to honour them with such a spectacle. He wasn't that stupid. 

It was already scandalous enough that he had married his niece. He didn't know if he could worsen his case.

His older brother's tired voice rang out. His speech, full of the values promoted by the company; family, solidarity, benevolence and all that crap everyone pretended to believe in. After all, a bit of scandal might have spiced things up, a bit of chaos in this ocean of smiles and hypocrisy.  Daemon liked the idea.

He found his daughters in the crowd. They were beautiful, as always, the spitting image of their mother. He took advantage of the end of the speech to compliment them, kiss them on the cheek and take a family photo that would delight the journalists. Proof that he was a good father, or whatever they would write in lines he wouldn't even read. 

But it wasn't them he was looking for. Nor his stepsons.

He scanned the room with his eyes, and finally. Finally he found what he was looking for. The very one he was interested in. Who had aroused his curiosity.

He grabbed two glasses of champagne and approached you like a predator towards his prey. You were alone. That was easy. "Has Jace abandoned you?" he asked in his raspy voice as you turned, obviously surprised to see him. He handed you a glass, which you accepted with your fingertips. He was close to you. Almost too close.

"He went to look for Cregan," you replied, frowning suspiciously. You were on your guard, but Daemon knew you'd be easy to tame. He'd noticed the way you looked at him when your boyfriend Jace brought you home, and the way you strutted by the pool just before his eyes in nothing but your bikini. You'd asked Jace to put sunscreen on your back, but it was him you were looking at as your boyfriend rubbed your back, him. His stepfather.

The dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, revealing the lovely curves you hid underneath the fabric. He had no problem imagining that all the men in the room were probably mentally undressing you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't. 

But the idea that other people, that other men could imagine your body, could picture your shape, could have inappropriate fantasies about you, irritated him to no end. The very thought made his blood boil and every muscle in his body tense.

He couldn't really explain why. 

Or, if he had to be honest, he knew why ; he had an idea in the back of his mind and he was desperate to act on it.

"Don't worry about me, darling," he replied, "I wasn't looking for my wife. Not tonight." He added, lower this time, leaving a deliberate mystery over his words. He saw you hesitate for a moment, your eyes widening before a slight smile curled the corners of your lips.  "'By the way, you look gorgeous,' he continued. "What a pity my stepson decided to leave you alone on an evening like this. There are some ill-intentioned men out there who might take advantage of the situation."

He saw you take a step in his direction, lowering the volume of your voice to make sure no one around you could hear what you were about to say. He also saw you look him in the eye with a kind of self-assurance that proved you hadn't said your last word yet. Fuck, he loved this game. And he was determined to win.

"I'm not afraid of ill-intentioned men, Daemon. I'm not a little girl anymore." Your voice purred against his ear, and he wondered if you really knew what you were doing, if you knew what you were getting into by pretending to be a big girl. 

Men like him could make a meal of fragile little things like you.

So he slowly leaned towards you. Who cared if anyone saw him? At least it would give the paparazzi something to write about in the morning. Daemon didn't give a fuck. They could say what they wanted, only idiots read the piles of shit those so-called journalists wrote in their rags.  "Don't be so sure, little one," he whispered in your ear as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "You don't know what these bad men are capable of." His gaze lingered on your collarbone, the exposed skin of your throat and your cleavage that hinted at your breasts. 

Jace had good taste. You were simply divine.

"Then show me," you retorted, and Daemon's eyes locked with yours again. He had that usual smile, enigmatic and arrogant. But he said nothing. He let out an insolent chuckle, his fingers still wrapped in a lock of your hair, before turning on his heels. 

For once, maybe the Gala would be something other than a meeting of fake smiles and endless, falsely polite conversations with people he didn't even like. For once, maybe the Gala would be exciting. 

The meal had been delicious, and the dinner had gone as politely as Daemon could remain. Despite Rhaenyra discreetly kicking him under the table every time he was about to hurl an insult at Otto Hightower, that omnipresent parasite as tenacious as vermin, he had managed the feat of not provoking a diplomatic incident.  But Otto Hightower wasn't the only thing he was angry about. At the other end of the table, out of the corner of his eye, he could see you and Jace talking, your hand on his, and the thought irritated him. Which was hypocritical of him. But he saw his stepson whisper something in your ear, he saw him slide his hand under the table as you giggled, and a little later he saw him ask you to dance. You had accepted, with your eyes glued to Daemon, and you knew exactly what you were doing, he was sure of it. 

For as you walked past him, you let your fingers brush his shoulder. You knew what you were doing. You knew what you were doing, and you knew he couldn't make you pay for it, at least not in public, not now, not in front of everyone. 

His hand tightened around his glass, and when Rhaenrya asked him if everything was all right, he grunted, barely answering. You wanted to provoke him. You did it on purpose. You were trying to provoke him, like a little spoiled brat, and Daemon was going to show you what happens to girls like you. But for the moment he could do nothing but watch, his gaze clouded with possessiveness and jealousy, as Jace spun you around, as you swayed to the music, as you let your boyfriend press himself against you. 

All the while looking at him. 

And in his head, it was only your name that sounded like an old broken record. He needed to teach you a lesson, to show you what happened to girls who were provocative, to girls who were impertinent, to girls who wanted to tease ill-intentioned men without worrying about the consequences.

He had warned you, but you hadn't listened.

His eyes swept the room once more, but you had disappeared into the crowd. Occasionally you emerged, between two couples. It was like a game of cat and mouse, but Daemon wasn't sure he was in the mood to play any more. He dismissed Rhaenyra with a mumbled apology, and when he saw you slip out of the room, he followed you discreetly.

He found you leaning against the railing with your back to him. Your silhouette stood out in the pale moonlight, and as he approached, the laughter, the loud music and the clinking of bottles mingled like faint echoes in the distance. The fresh air was pleasant. Maybe it would help him think more clearly. Maybe it would make him stop thinking about things he shouldn't. You, you and nothing else.  It was becoming an obsession. 

Without warning, he moved in your direction. He could smell your perfume, a sweet, floral scent wafting towards him. Fuck, he was so close, pressed against you, he could even feel the warmth of your body against his. You didn't move, and Daemon took that as silent approval.  He was behind you. The lower part of his body, pressed against you. Against your lower back. A familiar warmth spread between his loins. You could feel it. You could probably feel the effect you were having on him, and the thought was driving him crazy.

"Daemon."

He didn't back away. On the contrary, he stopped for a moment and slid his hand delicately up your thigh, to the edge of your dress, where his finger traced the hem. It was naughty - you were his stepson's girlfriend. You were much younger than he was.  But he couldn't help wanting more. He couldn't help taking what wasn't his and making it his. 

Fuck. He loved to play with fire, that was for sure. 

Quietly, Daemon withdrew his hand and leaned back against the railing, his gaze resting on you like that of a teacher disappointed with your behaviour. But there was something else beneath his reproachful expression, something else, and it was almost possessiveness - or jealousy - that shone in his eyes. "Look at me," he ordered, lifting your chin with the tip of his index finger, and your eyes landed on him. You didn't want to give in, you didn't want to give him what he wanted, so you looked away to stare at a distant point on the horizon. But he insisted, his fingers bruising your chin. Perhaps he should teach you discipline, since you obviously didn't know what that was. So the two of you stood there for a moment; his dark gaze piercing your deceptively innocent eyes, and he said nothing, his jaw set. When he broke eye contact, it was to study the soft curves of your breasts. His thumb traced the line from your jaw to your throat, then along your collarbones in a sudden excess of possessiveness. His eyes burned with desire. 

He needed to possess you.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing, little one?" Daemon finally asked. You knew exactly what he was referring to. You knew about the pool, you knew about the sunscreen, you knew about the short skirt at dinner the other night, you knew about dancing with Jace, a moment ago, while you devoured his stepfather with your eyes. You knew you were doing it on purpose, and now you were going to pay the consequences. But you weren't ready to give in just yet. You wanted to play a little longer. So you put on your best innocent expression and pretended you didn't understand.

"I don't know what you're talking about.”

He was seething. You were driving him mad. He frowned, but he knew he wasn't going to get you, not like this. His eyes were dark with lustful desire and sheer hunger.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't play dumb," he added again, before pulling a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He put one to his mouth and lit it with a lighter, his hand bent to shield the flame from the wind. You watched as he took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke.

"I didn't do anything wrong." You bit your lower lip. Deep down you felt almost ashamed, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but it was a paradoxical feeling - you adored the effect you were having on him. You weren't stupid, you knew jealousy when you saw it. But after all, you hadn't done anything wrong, that wasn't a lie. You had just danced with your boyfriend. With Jace. 

And Daemon was a married man.

"I was just dancing with my boyfriend," you said, putting the emphasis on that word. “You know, Jace."

Daemon handed you the cigarette, which you declined. He turned to face the horizon, leaned his elbows against the railing, his arms almost pressed against yours. He knew he had no right to be possessive with you. He was a married man.  He was a married man and you were young enough to be his daughter. It was hypocritical of him - but who doesn't need a bit of fun? The Gala was a bore.

"You were dancing? Really?" He paused. "Or tell me, are you so desperate for an older man's attention that you'll do anything to get it?" His words cut through the air like a sharp knife. He took another drag and turned towards you, blowing the smoke towards the horizon. Then he crushed his cigarette on the railing, nonchalant as ever. You remained silent for a moment. You stared at him. Who did he think he was?  Who did he think he was, talking to you like that, with that patronising tone, when you were Jace's girlfriend?  With calculated slowness, his fingers found your chin again and he forced you to lift your head towards him. He moved forward, pushing his body against yours until you were pressed against the iron barrier. He didn't care if the metal scraped against your back. He didn't care if it hurt. For the moment he wanted to be in control, and he wanted to remind you of your place.

All that mattered was the closeness of your face to his. 

Your breath grazed his face, light as a feather.

He grabbed your wrist, his thumb squeezing against your skin where he could feel your pulse racing. Fuck, he loved feeling the control he had over you; it made him harder than he already was.

Suddenly you felt bold. Raising your face to his, you let your lips linger on his for a moment without ever sealing the kiss. His whole body tensed, as if he had to restrain himself from tightening his grip on you. "Are you calling me a whore?" you asked in a calm voice, your provocative smile showing your teeth. "You're married, aren't you? I don't see why it bothers you so much what I do with my boyfriend." You'd hit a nerve. But Daemon hated being wrong, he hated being reminded of his mistakes or the hypocrisy of his behaviour. He tightened his grip. Your wrist was so small, seemed so fragile between his broad fingers. 

You had the feeling he could break it at any moment.

Daemon snorted. Now the big words. You played the innocent, you played the model daughter, but he knew exactly what was hidden behind your too well-behaved facade. Maybe he was insane. Wanting to claim you, wanting to keep you for himself, wanting to protect you from other men's eyes.  The sight of someone else's hands on your waist drove him mad. And yet you were just a passing distraction; just a way to add a little fun to his dull days and his dull marriage, just a way to satisfy a burning attraction, a primal need he couldn't satisfy any other way. 

Fuck. You were an impertinent girl with a sharp tongue, but once you were alone, he had no trouble imagining other uses for that divine tongue of yours.  You, kneeling before him, worshipping him in the most sinful way.  It was simply unholy.

But again, he wasn't a pious man. He was nothing but the devil. He didn't want redemption.

"And what about you little games?" He didn't look away, searching your face for a new trace of insolence - or perhaps a trace of sincerity, anything that would betray what you were really thinking. "I know what you're trying to do. When you deliberately bend down in front of me with that short skirt," his voice grew hoarse, covered with a veil of desire. "When you asked me to tie up the top of your swimming suit."  He could go on and on; reminding you of all the times you'd deliberately, innocently provoked him. The sound of his voice in your ear made you shiver. He let go of your wrist, his fingers moving up your body to play distractedly with the strap of your dress, his eyes roaming over your breasts. You let him, the touch of his fingers against your skin raising goosebumps all over your body.  He couldn't think of anything else but how divine you would look once that dress fell to the floor. "You're fucking asking for it," he concluded, turning his gaze to you.

"And?" You asked, your eyes lifted to his, peering out from under your long, curved lashes. You were indeed going to drive him mad. You bit your lower lip discreetly. He said nothing, the silence hanging over both of you for a moment as he pierced your soul with his icy gaze. Shadows of desire danced in his eyes. "You like to play, don't you?"

That was the spark that ignited the explosion. Something had changed, something in your dangerous games. In testing the limits again and again. In bending them, crossing them just enough to taste the intoxicating forbidden before stepping back behind that invisible protective barrier. You wanted to cross the forbidden line as much as he did, and the tension that had built up between you and him had no alternative but to explode. 

His grip tightened around your wrist, and he pulled you to him, against him.

Fuck the party.

Fuck propriety.

Fuck everyone.

He pressed his lips to yours in an urgent, desperate kiss. His hands moved to either side of your cheeks to keep your lips pressed to his. Like a man gasping for breath, he relied on your mouth, his tongue seeking a passage between your lips. You put your arms around his neck to hold him close. There was no tenderness, no love, just passion and an uncontrollable need to be pressed against each other. The kiss was rough. Unlike Jace, who kissed you tenderly as you lay on his bed, snuggled against him, Daemon wanted to assert his dominance. He wanted to take. He wanted to possess. He wanted to control. 

"We should stop," you whispered between kisses, panting, but it was a lie, you didn't want to stop. Trying to silence you, he slid his hand along your waist, down your hips, his fingers hesitant to slip under your dress - he was already imagining you soaking wet, just for him. You rubbed your thighs as the familiar sensation stirred, sending waves of heat through your core. Daemon caressed the black lace of your panties where your thigh met your centre, and you stifled a moan between his lips.

Anyone could catch you. Jace was nearby. Rhaenyra was nearby. If anyone turned their head, squinted their eyes, decided to get some fresh air on the rooftop, they could catch you by surprise. At any moment. 

People could talk, scandals could break out.  But Daemon didn't care. About his marriage. About the others. About being the centre of attention.

He had no morals, and he did the things he wanted just because he wanted to. 

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead pressed against his, your lips only inches apart. You knew what you were doing was wrong. You didn't want to think about Jace now - you didn't want to hurt him, but you were in his stepfather's arms and you weren't sure you could put an end to it. For you were like two magnets, inexorably drawn together. 

"We can't." You breathed against his lips, still brushing yours. His eyelids were closed, probably lost in desire, savouring the moment. Were you the only one with a moment's lucidity? Wasn't he supposed to be the most responsible ? He was twice your age. "We shouldn't," you tried to add as Daemon tried to capture your lips again. Behind your facade of trying to push him away, Daemon knew what you really wanted. He could feel it under his fingers; the wetness of the lace on the lingerie you were wearing betrayed your true feelings. 

And he was going to prove it to you.

"They're going to talk -" you began as Daemon pulled you by the wrist across the car park of the luxury downtown hotel. "Then let them talk," he replied coldly, tugging at your wrist to force you to move faster despite your high heels. 

You would be spotted. 

The press would create a scandal; him, cheating on his wife, cheating on the heiress of the Targaryen Corp. 

With you. You, Jacaerys Velaryon's girlfriend.

"Are you afraid?" he sneered, and you rolled your eyes at his immaturity. But you decided to play along. "I'm afraid, with your advanced age, you're not really able to keep up." He didn’t quite find that funny, because he gave you a dark glance. “You’d better watch your fucking mouth, young girl.”

Throughout the ride he had kept his hand possessively on your thigh, playing with the hem of your short dress without ever exploring too far. You bit your lower lip, barely moving your hips, subtly, seeking the warm touch of his fingers. The contact between you was electric. Your attempts at daring earned you the tightening of his grip on your thigh, squeezing your flesh. You had to put an end to it. You had to tell him to stop, to be reasonable, to turn around and take you back to the party before anyone noticed you were gone. But all you could see in Daemon's eyes was coldness and hardness.

You were already too far away. There was no turning back.

And the electric tension between you hadn't diminished - it had increased as the lift carried you up. As soon as the doors had closed, Daemon had you pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped around him, your dress pulled up, to devour your lips. One of his hands was pressed against the wall next to your head, the other firmly gripped around your waist.

Daemon hadn't done things by halves. He'd chosen a luxury hotel, a five-star place that had welcomed only prestigious guests since its opening. But the idea was as exciting as it was indecent; he was going to fuckyou in a suite that offered a panoramic view of all of King's Landing, a private spa with a Jacuzzi, and a bottle of champagne worth thousands.  And above all, in a suite that offered the peace and quiet to spend the night as he wished, with no one around to hear you scream his name.

He had chosen the best for you, nothing but the best. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. All this for a girl half his age, whom he wanted to fuck like some expensive prostitute. But why deprive himself when you, the spoiled brat that you were, were only asking for it? You had some kind of hold over him, some kind of mysterious power that made him lose his mind, but fuck, he loved it. He loved the adrenaline that came with danger, the adrenaline that came with the indecency of taking what wasn't his. 

"So what now?" He heard you mutter. You had regained your insolence as you entered the room, your arms crossed over your chest. What now. As if you didn't know what was coming next. You played innocent, but he knew that underneath your angelic exterior you were anything but naive.  He let out a deep chuckle.

What now? 

Oh, but now the fun was about to begin. Now the evening would take another turn - the one he'd been waiting for. He was going to ravish you.

He approached you with a predatory look on his face. He stood behind you, stroking your shoulders and throat with his fingertips before gathering your mass of hair to one side to free your back and neck. He pushed you forward into the room, close to the large mirror opposite the bed.

"Now you're going to undress." Daemon said, mirroring the words you'd just used in a tone that left no room for argument. He let his fingers slide down the skin of your back to the zip, which he played with, sending shivers down your spine. His lips planted kisses on the nape of your neck and slowly - very slowly - he began to pull the zip down. "I want to see you," he added. His eyes, burning with desire, met yours in the mirror. Each of his words were carefully chosen. Cold and calculated. Authoritative and paternal. You couldn't resist him, and as you slipped the straps from each shoulder, the fabric fell to the floor in a pool of satiny black. 

"You wouldn't want to keep kepus waiting, would you?" You didn't know the word - it was that ancient language for which the Targaryens had a secret. But you could imagine all sorts of meanings, given the context. A whole lot of meanings that sent waves of heat between your thighs, making you wetter than you already were...

You swallowed.

Desire pulsed through your core. It wasn't fair for this old man to have such a powerful effect on you with just a few words.

You shivered. Whether it was the chill of being almost naked in the room or the realisation that you were now at Daemon's mercy, you weren't sure. Because he was in control, he was the master of the situation, and you were now playing by his rules.

In your lingerie you were divine. The black lace hugged your skin to perfection - embracing your rounded breasts, revealing your darker nipples and rounded buttocks. A perfect mix of debauchery and innocence.  It was becoming difficult for Daemon to resist. But he had to make it last. 

Teaching you a lesson in patience and obedience was his mission for tonight.

In the reflection of the mirror, you saw his hands brush against your ribs, coming to rest on your hips. Behind you, he stood a good head taller than you. He was taller, wider too, as if to remind you of your place. What he wanted you to be. An object of his personal desire. One of his fingers slipped lower, playing with the elastic of your lace panties, never venturing beneath the fabric - never soothing the place between your thighs that throbbed too wildly. You moved your hips. You wanted more. More contact. More sensation. His fingers against your bud. 

"Stay still, little one," he replied, holding you in place, a mischievous smile stretching across his lined lips. His deep voice vibrated in the hollow of your ear. His fingers were slow, light. Painful. "I didn't say you could move." You struggled to maintain eye contact, to watch your own reflection, so vulnerable, lost in his arms, with his hands on your body, mean and possessive, when you weren't supposed to belong to him.  "Look at you," he whispered in a soft breath that made the hairs on the back of your neck quiver. Your naked body stiffened against his, still clothed.

His fingers slipped lower. You held back a moan. He stroked the spot between your thighs, finding wetness through the fabric. "Do you need kepus here, little one?" His hungry smile widened. That damn word again, that damn word you didn't know - but which seemed dangerously out of place in this situation.  You closed your eyes, and as if by reflex, your hand closed around his wrist to keep him there. You couldn't utter a word or form a coherent thought. "Looks like you lost your tongue, huh?" he added sternly.

"Shut up, old man," you manage to say in spite of everything - without answering his question. You didn't want to give him that privilege. You would have liked to come up with something else, a clever retort, or something that was so characteristic of you - just to show him that you weren't afraid to bite. But you were so lost in your pleasure that the words died in your throat.

"Old man, really?" He frowned. His fingers stopped moving. He held them against you - his forefinger through the fabric, against your entrance. Forbidding you to make the slightest movement, to move your hips, to search for friction. Forcing you to look at your own image, your reflection that proved you'd been caught playing your own game. "Then use your words like the big girl you are and tell me what you want."

Leaning forward, he let his lips brush your shoulder, one hand pulling the fabric of your panties aside to slip his fingers underneath. He wasn't going to give you what you wanted right away - not when you'd called him old man, not when you'd been insolent. His trousers had become ridiculously tight and his pulse was racing with excitement even as he tried to remain calm.  Then his fingers caressed the side of your folds - running over the soft, tender skin, carefully avoiding the little knob at the top of your thighs that would give you so much pleasure. He traced your slit, gathering irrefutable evidence that you desired him. 

You held back a moan. 

He didn't look away from your reflection as his fingers spread your folds, as he collected your wetness on his middle finger, as he finally let his thumb rest against the small hidden pearl. He could feel you weakening, your legs giving way, but he held you up with his arms, to force you to stay firmly on your feet. He wasn't finished with you. Not yet. He hadn't told you you could sit up or lie down. Nor had he told you that you could look away.

And as long as you continued to misbehave, he'd have to be the one to put you in your place.

"Eyes on me." His sharp voice echoed through the room, between the wet sounds of his fingers against the most intimate part of your body and the moans your full lips gently released. Daemon was merciful; he gave you time to obey. And it was only when you opened your eyes again, when your angelic, pleading gaze met his once more in the reflection of the mirror, that his fingers became bolder. He pressed his index and middle fingers against your entrance, tracing a few small circles before plunging inside you.

You clenched beneath him, against him, around him. 

"Look at you," he murmured, punctuating his sentences with hungry kisses that were sure to leave a purple necklace the next morning. "So wet for me. And I've only just started using my fingers." His other hand slid the strap over your shoulder, then deftly unhooked your bra to explode your chest. You felt his thumbs run over the roundness of your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. Then he withdrew his fingers from your warm den, his thumbs hooked under the elastic of your panties, and the piece of fabric that still separated him from your body fell to the floor. He admired you for a moment, before he found your crotch again, pushing his fingers inside you, curling them against the spot that made you see the stars. Just as you were about to look away, Daemon's strong hand closed around your jaw, holding your face up to your own reflection. " Do you see how well you take my fingers inside you ?".

The image reflected in the mirror was one of debauchery. You, panting, desperately trying to keep your balance. Him, behind you, fully clothed, with his fingers deep inside you.

Daemon relished the flush in your cheeks, the shudder that ran through your body, the sighs that escaped your parted lips. You had that innocent, angelic, look that he was dying to tear apart. 

Looking innocent was your weapon. A weakness you used against him, he knew it.

"Look at you, the model girl acting like a whore." He stared into the reflection where his fingers disappeared between your glistening folds. Your walls tightened - you were close, much too close. The wave of pleasure was about to overwhelm your body, and as you felt the release coming, you threw your head back to welcome it.

Your whole body convulsed.

But Daemon didn't give you time to catch your breath. 

"You're so fucking wet," he whispered as he removed his fingers from your warmth and brought them to your own lips. He spread your wetness all over them, pushing his middle and index fingers against your tongue so you could taste yourself. "So wet, just for the old man I am." 

It was naughty – perfectly naughty. The taste of your own essence permeated your taste buds as you wrapped your tongue around his fingers. 

Daemon lifted you up to throw you onto the bed, face down on the mattress, a little more roughly than he would have liked. His eyes shining with anticipation, he placed a hand on your bottom to caress the curve of it.  He wondered what would happen if it turned red.

You were still trying to catch your breath. To come to your senses after your orgasm. 

You couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"Tell me, young lady. Do you think you've been obedient enough tonight?" he asked as he sat down beside you, his hand stroking your chin in a fatherly way. "Or do you need to be punished as a reminder?"

You widened your eyes. Punished. A ball formed in your stomach - a mixture of anxiety and excitement. 

"I don't see what I did wrong," you huffed, defying him with your eyes. "I always behave well. I'm a good girl."

Daemon raised his eyebrows. "A good girl, really?" He lifted your chin, as if inspecting your face for any trace of genuineness. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. Reflecting. As if thinking about the punishment he was going to give you. "Even when you came without my permission?" He paused. "I don't fucking care how good it feels, you'd better not come until I tell you to."

Oh. For that too, you needed his permission. You looked away, embarrassed. But the answer Daemon was waiting for didn't come fast enough. You felt like you'd been swimming underwater for too long - but Daemon was in no mood for patience, not tonight.  He tightened his fingers around the firm flesh of your bottom as if to signal what would inevitably happen. For whatever the answer, Daemon knew there was only one possible outcome. 

And he loved the idea.

His member throbbed with anticipation in the tight confines of his trousers, but he ignored it. His toothy grin reflected the pleasure he felt at being in control, at being the one who determined the events of the evening and their pace. He was the one who would mark you, who would make you yield, who would make your whole body sore and red and tired until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Well?" Daemon added, allowing you the kindness to catch your breath. "With your words." Perhaps he was being too soft on you. Too lenient. But in any case, you could be glad for the brief respite he gave you. Because soon you'd be whimpering again, all weepy and begging. He had a prospect he was looking forward to: reveling in your tears of pleasure and overstimulation.

You had tried to provoke him? Now you had to face the consequences. And Daemon hoped you would be able to.

"I have been exemplary. All evening." You replied, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him with your wide eyes. "And after all, you're not my father. You don't get to punish me."

Daemon's eyes fell on you, his hard face still set in sternness. His gaze still burned with the same intensity of control and danger. But behind that lustful glow, he had his usual look, the one he wore when he was pissed off. It didn't bode well for you.

"You haven't been exemplary." He hissed. "You wanted to act like a whore. So I'm going to treat you like a whore." With that, Daemon stood up. He left you there, on the bed, the product of your desire smeared on your inner thighs. Completely naked. You watched him walk away towards the vanity at the other end of the room in a heavy silence.

You were confused.

You weren't sure you understood what had happened, what was going to happen, but the danger excited you.

Once in front of the vanity, he took the time to slowly unfasten the watch from his wrist and carefully place it on the marble tabletop. He took the time to remove his wedding ring from his finger. He took the time to take off his suit jacket and place it on the back of the chair. He took the time to open the bottle of champagne in the ice cube tray and pour himself a glass. He took the time to do all this - slowly, meticulously.

As if you didn't exist.

Of course, he could feel your gaze on him, your big eyes following his every move with incomprehension. But he wanted to play with his prey, like a cat with a mouse. And it was simply delicious to feel you so unsettled, to feel yourself losing your footing, to see you become a mass of hesitation and insecurity. He was in control and that was a feeling Daemon loved more than anything.

He returned to the edge of the bed and sat down, facing the mirror. He rolled up each sleeve of his shirt over his muscular forearms and finally, he turned his attention back to you. "Come, little one," he said, patting his thigh to entice you to come closer, a ravenous smile stretching his lips. "On kepus' laps." You gulped. You moved forward slowly, like a frightened animal. "Girls like you need to be taught a lesson, don't you think? 

You felt desire grow between your thighs - the familiar tingle at your core. "What lesson, old man?" You countered, your tongue flicking out of your lips as you settled into his laps like a little girl who deserved her punishment.  But wasn't that what you were; a little girl playing in the big leagues?

Daemon took the time to trace the full shape of your ass with a warm gentleness that contrasted sharply with the act he was about to perform. His fingers explored your skin, sliding lower, between the folds that still glistened with the essence of your desire. He let his fingers roam the most sensitive part of you, of your body, gathering the evidence of what you were feeling to soak his own fingers.

"You're going to count with me," Daemon whispered in his hoarse, urgent voice. " Up to ten. You can do it, can't you?"

You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen, your body tensing against his. You had lost all your repartee, all your wit. You were no longer the confident, bold young woman who had provoked him all these days - you were a little girl lost in the laps of a man far too old for her. 

You took a deep breath. And the first blow came. The palm of his hand struck the skin of your bottom with a slap that broke the silence between you. "One," you murmured as he stroked the skin he'd just bruised, his fingers lingering between your folds again. You stifled a moan. "Such a good girl," he whispered into your ear. 

And then again. The touch of his palm against your skin. The pain, red and hot, delicious too, spreading through you.  Two. And again. Three. And again. Four. And again. Five.

The red that now coloured your buttocks made him even harder than he already was. It was always that feeling of control, always that feeling of dominance, always the idea of teaching you a lesson that turned him on so much. He must have been completely sick in the head, but who wasn't, in his family?

He was no ordinary man, he was a Targaryen, and he was above the ordinary people. 

He paused for a moment, his fingers venturing once more into the space between your folds to catch the dripping wetness. "Tell me, is it the thought of being punished that makes you so wet, young girl?" he asked, wiping his fingers over your thigh. You held your breath. 

Your moans grew louder, closer, as his hand met your ass once more, and Daemon knew you were struggling to stay focused. You were losing control of your mind and it was all because of him. It was perfect.

"Up to ten, I said," he pointed out with a mixture of firmness and softness in his voice. "So? How far are we?" You searched for words. How could he ask you to think, to count - even to 10 - when you were incapable of thinking clearly with his fingers there? You were too drunk with pleasure to form a coherent thought. 

But Daemon demanded that you finish the count.  Two more.  Two more, and you had to use your words to count them out loud.

"Your words, girl. Don't make me tell you twice," Daemon repeated as his fingers traced the outside of your folds before parting them, stroking your slit, applying a little pressure to your entrance with the flat of a finger before withdrawing his hand.

But there was no answer, and Daemon sighed. Silly girl, making no effort, weren't you? Perhaps he should be more patient. After all, you had endured your punishment so well, with diligence. "So demanding, and for what?” He asked, his condescending tone seeping into his every word. "Be a good girl. I know you can do it, dear one. We were at eight."

You started counting again, with difficulty. Daemon gave you the remaining two slaps to complete your punishment, and he looked at you with pride.  You had taken them, all of them, with docility. He stroked your cheek. You would no doubt have a mark the next day, judging by the pink colour that now adorned your skin. But such a sight, coupled with the sight of his essence that would soon be dripping from your entrance, was something Daemon was determined to imprint under his eyelids.

"See, it wasn't so hard after all, was it?" he asked, his voice honeyed as he caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "I'm proud of you." Your eyes were brimming with tears - of joy or pain, you couldn't really tell. Probably a bit of both. You felt exposed, you felt like a hot mess, and yet you would have gladly taken more if Daemon had asked. 

You let Daemon guide you into a sitting position, your legs falling to either side of his muscular thighs. Hiding a wince of pain, you wondered for a moment whether to curse or thank him. You couldn't form a single sentence, couldn't utter a single word. So you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your bodies together and your lips found refuge against his. The feel of his tongue against yours was comforting. Underneath you could feel the fabric of Daemon's trousers rubbing against your bare core. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren't satisfied with what he had given you. 

You needed more, you needed him. Inside you.

Daemon tightened his grip on your hip, his jaw clenched. He could feel the pressure building, like a storm ready to break. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders, press you against the mattress beneath him and take what he wanted from you. Without remorse. Without a thought for you, without a thought for your own pleasure. It took all his self-control to tame his impulses. As the kiss grew more passionate, the flat of his hand settled against the nape of your neck. His hand was so large compared to your face. He was so big compared to you. Your hips moved in a long, slow motion and you looked so vulnerable, completely naked against him, spilling your wetness all over his expensive Hugo Boss trousers.

He wondered if you could feel the effect you were having on him, the growing bulge trapped in his trousers.

When you broke the kiss, he gently tucked one of your curls behind your ear. Something in him had softened, maybe a little too much. Fuck. Since when had he become soft? Since when had he become anything other than a harsh and selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure? Deep inside, an inexplicable feeling made him doubt. It was paradoxical. And it irritated him to the bone.

Keeping control had always been a way of protecting himself.

Something sparkled in your eyes, he could barely make it out - but already you were sliding to your knees, in front of him, at his feet. You were already undoing the buckle on his belt to free his hard, angry member. "Let me show you how good I can be," you whispered against the tip of his reddened member. Your fingers wrapped around his cock. It was warm in your hand, heavy. You struggled to close your grip around it. Fuck, he was large.

You brought his member to your lips, the salty taste spreading across your tongue. You traced a vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue. "Am I doing well?" you breathed as you placed a series of kisses along his hard length. It was his turn to have lost all possibility of speech - or thought - as you felt his hand digging into your hair, hardening, forcing you to take him into your mouth, and you grinned. You let him guide you. You let him encourage you to take him deeper into your throat, feeling yourself drool around him. The act was messy, filthy, but delicious. He was heavy on your tongue, and the salty taste became more pronounced as his member throbbed.

Daemon couldn't help but think that this was your place. That he wanted to keep you there for all eternity. "You're doing well," he agreed. "But if you are as good as you say, you will have to take more of it," He paused, and as if to reassure you, he placed a fatherly hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the space where he had disappeared between your lips. "You can do it, can't you?"

But he wouldn't last long. The feel of your lips, your wet mouth around him, the sight of you on your knees would be enough to make him come. 

"Look at you," he growled. "On your knees, where you belong. Sucking kepus' cock like the whore you are." It was getting harder and harder for him not to just spill out on your tongue. He was close. He would not be long.  But he didn't want to end now, not in your mouth, not when the night was just beginning.

So he grabbed your hair and pushed you back, letting you catch your breath for a moment. You had done well. But he wasn't done with you yet. You stood up timidly, hesitant, and Daemon took his time to study your naked body. You were beautiful. Beautifully young.

"Now, on the bed, young girl," he ordered, "before I change my mind." You complied. A thick tension hovered between the two of you, the result of a forbidden game that was becoming increasingly dangerous. But Daemon loved it. He loved this game. And judging by your reactions, he wasn't the only one.

He stripped completely before joining you. His body was sculpted to perfection - and you couldn't take your eyes off him. With a tap of his index and middle fingers on your thighs, Daemon told you to spread them, which you did. 

You felt even smaller under him. 

"I'm going to enter you and you're going to take all of me." His hand caressed your cheek briefly - always that contradictory combination of softness and firmness that drove you crazy - before wrapping his hand around his own member and rubbing it against your pearl. He didn't seek to penetrate you right away. He teased you. Moving back and forth between your swollen folds. Slowly. Too slowly.

And finally, he pushed into you. The intense feel of him washed over you, stretching your opening nicely as he sank into you. He filled you in a way no one else had - he was wide. He was deep. You closed your legs around him, subtly undulating your hips to let him dive deeper. The sensation was divine.

"Such a tight little cunt," he growled. Your nails dug into his back and he grunted into the hollow of your neck, his pelvis thrusting forward to bury himself further between your walls, to split you open. To go deeper. To hit that spot inside you again and again. "Made for my cock only." You swallowed the rasp that escaped his lips, your hands searching his hair, his skin, every inch of his body.

Suddenly, Daemon emerged from your warmth and deftly flipped you onto your stomach. "On your hands and knees." Moaning, tearful, you tried to cling to the sheets with the desperation of a castaway trying to escape drowning. "Please," you begged, rolling your hips back. "I need you. Demon, please."  He chuckled.

From behind you, he lifted your chin. "Open your eyes," he ordered again, and you obeyed, finding yourself facing your own reflection. "What do you see?" he asked as he plunged into you again, his hands gripping your hips. 

The vision before you reflected nothing but lechery - Daemon moving inside you, from behind, inflicting punishing thrusts. You wanted to look away in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed, but you knew that would be disobeying Daemon's orders. 

So you watched as he ruined you.

"U-Us," you replied with a groan. You wouldn't last long. "Us," Daemon repeated. But your answer wasn't enough - wasn't good enough for him.  "And what are we doing, little one?" 

Your cheeks were on fire. Your whole body was on fire. The words he was waiting for couldn't pass your lips. It was too much. Everything was too much. "We are..." The words were confused. They jumbled in your head. "You're - you're...fucking me," you stammered. Daemon rolled his hips harder, deeper, while his fingers sought out your little bud to accompany his thrusts. "Such bad words for a pretty mouth like yours," Daemon reprimanded you, emphasising his words with a particularly brutal thrust. You closed your eyes.

You were about to –

"No, young girl. Not yet. First, I want you to look at yourself taking me so well." Your eyes met his in the mirror. His movements became jerkier, your breathing more panting. "Daemon, please," you begged, not really knowing what you were asking. You felt his fingers. You felt his member inside you. You felt his warm chest against your back. You felt too much.

"Now you're going to be a good girl and keep everything I'm going to give you inside you," Daemon grunted, between erratic movements that became more and more slippery. Your intimate walls were squeezing him perfectly and he wished the feeling would never end.  “I wonder what your boyfriend would say –“

As your climax washed over your entire body, you collapsed onto the mattress. Daemon quickly followed, pulling your hips up against him to bring your pelvis against his, and he poured himself into you, his hot seed flowing between your warm walls. He lay still for a moment, savouring the bliss of his own release.

You winced as he pulled out and lay back on the bed beside you. "You've made a mess," he said as you felt the combination of your fluids running down your thigh to the sheet. "And whose fault is that, old man?" you grumbled as you instinctively lay down next to him, seeking comfort in snuggling up to him, curled up against his chest. "Yours," he replied.  He put an arm around you to keep you close. 

"Daemon, I wanted to tell you -" you started, but you could feel that he was somewhere else. His body was tense, his jaw clenched, his head full of thoughts that eluded you, and you wanted to ask him what was wrong. 

What had caused this change in his demeanour? 

He'd had you in bed. He'd ruined you. He'd fucked you unholy. He made you feel things even Jace couldn't.

So why did he suddenly seem so distant?

The comfort you sought was short-lived. Daemon was already reaching into his suit jacket to grab his pack of cigarettes. Throwing his shirt over his shoulders, he walked over to the window and took a deep drag. You looked at him, your heart sinking. It was stupid. It was stupid what you were about to say and you immediately put it out of your mind.

He was married and you were young enough to be his daughter, what interest could he have in you other than a forbidden one-night stand?

Daemon didn't look back. He tried to reassure himself that it was just a void he was trying to fill. A fantasy he had fulfilled; corrupting you. He wasn't the romantic type. He wasn't the type to fall in love - his marriage was proof of that. He tired of people easily.  He wasn't a good person.

But perhaps the game between you two had gone too far, and the idea frightened Daemon more than ever. He'd thought he could just take what he wanted - be satisfied with that and then send you back to your routine. But when he saw you in bed, naked between the sheets, his heart skipped a beat. He hated the idea.

Because he wasn't sure he was in control of the situation anymore.

[crystlizabeth]

@pampanope thank you for the request!! I accidentally messed up so I had to delete the original 😔

When I think of something like this I definitely think of Johnny! I love the Scott he such a sweetheart!! I’m definitely becoming a soap girly and I love it!!

Night Market!

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish x Civilian!femreader

Summery: going on a trip for a little you time you find yourself in while going through the night market you meet a Scottish soldier.

Warnings: not much, fluff, cursing, n as always my writings a Blackfem coded but there should be no exact description to you the reader everyone is welcome! Not strongly proofread

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Night had always been a favorite Mexico may not have been the best place to travel by yourself for you time but never had any problems. Now you walked through the night market of Las Alma’s the smell of Mexican food flowing through the air, bright colors still vibrant with the darkness.

You had to admit it wasn’t the best feeling seeing people with heavy-duty guns just casually walking around, most of them not even soldiers. Walking down the aisle of little shops you stopped in front of a flower booth.

Looking through all the pretty flowers, bundles of red roses, baby breath, sunflowers, peonies, marigolds, and others. Looking through them you felt a presence step next to you, them standing closely.

Looking up you saw a taller man with heavy gear on but dressed in some jeans and a simple shirt his hair styled in a mow-hawk, he was handsome that's for sure soon his eyes met yours wandering one scaring you and making you look quickly back to the flowers in front of you. He chuckled lightly his head turning to look at you, “you shouldn't stare at people with find it weird.” you spoke softly your eyes still avoiding his

“I apologize lassie could help but admire ya.” he laughed lightly.

His laugh made your heart flutter how could such an intimidating guy have such a sweet voice little weird that he decided to flirt with you but you didn't mind. “I bet you say that a lot..” you teased lightly your eyes meeting his.

Wow, he had these really blue eyes they were gorgeous, to say the least his eyelashes were long and feminine-like. “Not all the time, you with a friend? Sorry if it sound creppy of a stranger to ask.” He spoke his hand holding in to his vest as he faced you.

“Yeah I’m with a group we split up for a bit..” you lied couldn’t help it but it’s was a just incase because what if he was wired.

“Not the best idea eh?” He spoke his brow rising.

“Maybe but I can take care of my self, haven’t had any problems.” You spoke your body facing him.

He nodded his mouth opens to say one more thing but ended up closing it only to speak, “I’m John McTavish my friends call me Johnny though.” He introduced himself holding his hand out to shakes yours.

Being polite you shook his hand introducing yourself aswell, “nice you meet you hun.” You spoke your head tilted to the side a small smile laying in your lips. Him returning the gesture giving you a toothy smile that made your heart flutter.

“What ones you looking at?” He asked,

“What..” you muttered your eyes never leaving his.

“Flowers lass, any you like? Saw you staring at the baby breath and peonies..” he said a cheeky grin plasters in his face as he spoke to you.

“Oh!— yeah- um— I was thinking of getting some with the pink roses it would be cute bouquet no?” You asked flustered turning away from him.

God get it together you thought, he some 6 foot guy in the military that could destroy you if he felt like it. But he looked damn good when he smiled at you his head tilted in that teasing manner when he caught you staring at him.

“Yer alright lass?” he chuckled a bit, His deep laughter gives you goosebumps.

You nodded turningyour head towards him, “Mmhm! I've got to get going— haha sorry it was lovely meeting you!” you spoke still flustered.

“Could I walk you back it nearly midnight?” he asked.

Walk you back, bad idea.. He's some random guy you just met. He didn't give you any type of creepy vibes would it really be all that bad? It would be bad if he kidnapped you, “Sure.” you said excusing the wandering thoughts in your head, you had your location on and your friends back home had it your AirPods stuffed in your boob as an extra tracker but you didn't feel worried about it. You did have a gross feeling in your gut about him so why not he was military, British military you're fine.

He walked next to you, the two of you exchanging conversations at your bother walked learning more about one another thought here and there his thick accent was hard to understand sometimes he was something else. You were down bad for some guy you just met, it was disappointing when you finally got to your little hotel and walked through the doors you let him walk you up to your room.

“This is you I take it.” he spoke watching your body stop in front of the door.

“Yeah- sorry we couldn't talk more Johnny,” you said your voice laced with sadness.

He smiled lightly “no worries lass glad I could get you back safely. Lovely meeting you sweetheart, maybe I'll see you tomorrow night.” he spoke shrugging.

“Hopefully-” you said a smile forming on your face.

“Sleep easy lass,” he spoke his hand grabbing yours gently pressing his lips to your knuckles.

You watched in awe as he did so “you too..” you muttered watching the Scott Walker back down the hall looking behind him a few times me to get another look at you.

Opening your door you closed it your back falling agents it “oh my god.. Oh. My. GOD!” you screeched fawnly your hands falling over your face.

In the time son of forty-five minutes, he left you giddy like a schoolgirl, soon to come with the realization that you didn't get his number, socials anything! That made you mad at your self you were completely submitted forgetting to do a basic thing and ask for his number and after the conversation you both had made you let out an angry groan.

It was sad because you would probably never him again you had his name yeah but couldn't find shit on social media. So you had to sleep off the sadness maybe you get to see him tomorrow night.

The morning eventually came you getting ready to head out opening the door you almost stepped on it. A bouquet of flowers and little not attached the the string that held the brown paper that held the flowers as one Picking it up was Pink roses Peonies and baby breath a few eucalyptus leaves around it. It was pretty very pretty some of your favorites even turning the note over it read ‘sorry but I wound be able to see you tonight had to leave mexico due to work, but there's my number I would love to see you again Lassie! - Johnny McTav.’

The note made you smile though it was sad because you wouldn't be able to see him, but he remembered the flowers you were looking at last night when you met putting them all together with a note saying goodbye.

That was the first thing you did putting his number into your phone.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Hope this is good for you babes! Short but sweet!

[leeofthevoid]

I do not have a Crush

Jann Mardenborough (Movie) x Reader

a/n: Hello guys. I am alive, so please don't be mad about being MIA. School is hectic but finals are almost over. Rich World will continue but will change the title soon. (Yay!) This one is for the Jann girlies!

word count: 2673

warnings: Strong language

Part One

You sat next to Jann as he looked longingly at Audrey, who was chuckling with his younger brother, Coby, and his friends. 

“If you stare long enough, she might just melt.” You sarcastically remarked as you sat beside him, a beer in your hand. Jann rolled his eyes, looked down at his Diet Coke can, and sighed. “Any reason you’re bugging me and not Coby?” 

“No reason. I just wanted some fresh air, and this is my spot, the last time I remembered.” You leaned on the railing, stretching your back as you looked at the friends laughing. “You should shoot your shot. Audrey likes tall guys the last time I remembered.” 

Another dismissive sigh was heard from his area while playing with the can, which he barely touched. “You know that your advice won’t make a difference, right? I heard you had a thing for Corey, yet you still haven’t made moves.” He looked at you with a victorious smirk. A moment passed until the words finally settled in your mind, and retaliated with violence by smacking him on the arm. “Oh fuck off, I was helping you.” He busted out laughing while you walked away to go back to the group. 

That’s how it usually goes when you try to be friendly with Jann. He was always the hopeless romantic, yet he always had a knack for annoying you when it’s just you two. 

The next time you saw him was by the department store. You and Coby had the same schedule that day, and he wanted to go to where Jann works to assert some younger brother dominance thing that you would never understand. You saw Jann’s tall frame putting back women’s clothes as Coby called him over a few aisles down. 

“Jann! Come here!” The loud calls did not go unnoticed by anyone in the store, embarrassing him enough to run to you two and pull you aside quickly. “What is wrong with you, man? I’m at work!” He glared at his brother and hit him on the shoulder. Coby laughed and pulled you in front as a human shield.

“Relax, I just brought her here to shop for some lady stuff. Said she had a date to go to that needed some hot undie set.” You raised your eyebrows in confusion while shaking your head. 

“What? No way? I came here because you said you will mghdnfdg…” Coby clasped a hand on your mouth, muffling your comebacks while he pushed you off to Jann, who caught you and ran away.

“That asshole! What was he up to?” Jann slowly let you go while you balanced yourself, silently thanking him. He sighed and cleared his throat. “Whatever it was, it’s his stupidity catching up to him.” 

You also sighed, having no idea what to do now that Coby left you to fend for yourself. Jann scratched the back of his neck and checked his watch. “Hey, if you’re not busy, maybe ditch buying that ‘set’ and grab lunch with me? I’m done for the day anyways.” 

Your stomach was growling, and you barely got to eat something before coming here, so lunch sounded terrific. “You’re right. I’m starving. I’m craving some sandwiches, so take me somewhere with that, and I’ll pay for our lunch.” He chuckled and walked to his co-worker, probably saying something about leaving now, to which the other guy nodded. 

He turned back with a smile as he removed his vest and threw his arm around your shoulder, dragging you out of the store and to a sandwich place nearby. “Her Highness needs her food!” You rolled your eyes before walking to the counter and ordering your food.

He was such a bastard when it came to food, but he made it up to you by bringing him to where he played that racing game he was so obsessed with. He told you it was called ‘Gran Turismo,’ but you insisted it was a racing game just like every other you’ve come across. It was fun to piss him off, even if he didn’t. 

“Go wider!”

“But there’s a line! That’s the point of the game: you follow the line!” You grip the wheel of the console and glared at Jann. “No, the point of the game is to win.” Jann puts his hands on yours and takes a wider stance on the wheel instead of following the line. You hated his weird obsession with whin, but it was his fault for making you play a game. You heard Dylan call your name from behind while patting your head. “Thanks for going today, love. Seeing Jann so frustrated is such a treat.” He chuckled as he watched the screen of the console. 

The car effectively passed by the others and eventually got to fourth place, but at this point, it was all Jann. He even scooted you over to sit next to you. Brows creased in focus while his hands gripped tighter on yours. You watched the screen as he maneuvered past third place and second. Dylan and some other people gathered around as you two played the game, a sight you were new to. He was always the withdrawn type, but his apparent obsession with this game gained him a small fanbase in this arcade.

Jann held on, his palms sweating while turning and tailing the car in the first place. He hastily turned the wheel and accelerated, making your car and the first placer side by side before he stepped on the gas and made it to first place. The crowd around you cheered while you felt the shoot of adrenaline finally settle in you as Jann fought to keep his spot in first place. 

“Woooh!” You happily screamed out as you saw the finish line. “Jann, don’t you dare lose!” You hear him chuckle as he nods and steps on the gas while the car approaches the finish line. The crowd shushes, and you only hear your heart beating as the time slows. The next thing you know, you saw the car cross the checkered finish line, and the big letters “First Place” flashed. 

Everyone cheered as you both jumped up from the seat, screaming and jumping at him. “Oh my gosh, you’re amazing!” He caught you and gave you a tight hug before setting you down. 

“I mean…You did help so…” You shoved him off and rolled your eyes as a friend of Jann’s came over. 

“Holy shit, bruv, you did it again!” He looked at you and then smirked, “Is this Miss Audrey with us right now?” He offered his hand to you while you took it, giggling. 

“No way, I’m far from Audrey. She’s prettier and dresses simpler. I’m more of Coby’s eccentric best friend, who he ditched.” You took his hand and shook it lightly before sliding it away. 

“My name’s Bryan. And you mentioned being ditched? A pretty thing like you?”

You giggled softly and playfully rolled your eyes.“Y/N. And Jann should totally bring Audrey next time, no?” Bryan poked the boy behind you while he teased Jann about his very obvious crush on Audrey.

The rest of the day went swimmingly when Bryan and Jann offered to drop you off at your flat, getting Bryan’s number saved in the process. Such a flirt, that one. Who would have expected that Jann’s friends weren’t all weird geeks? 

After a few weeks or a day, before Jann got the good news, he was lying on his bed contemplating the trajectory of his life. 

He knew that he had no solid plan for his future, but he was sure it had some good things in it. Driving was his passion, and it was a big deal for him to be somewhat of a driver. He may not have driven any of the real cars in GT, but he knew all of them inside and out. It was meant for him. 

A few taps on his windows suddenly broke his quiet reverie. He slowly sat up and looked at the window, waiting to see if it was in his head or not. 

It was not. 

After the taps became much more apparent, he stood up and slowly approached the window. When he saw you smiling at him, he quickly opened it and let you in. 

“How the hell did you get up from there?!” Jann let you in before checking outside the window. He looked around to see how you scaled his house and saw no decent ledges you could have used. 

“Jannie! So sorry for being an intruder, but Coby was still not in his room, so…” You chuckled as you rambled. 

“Wait, Coby knows about this?” 

You paused and sat down on his bed, giving him a confused look. “Of course he does. I always swing by his room when I’m either high or drunk and wait for it to sober down.” 

His face twisted in an even more confused and worried way while checking his small snack box for water. He opened it before he gave it to you, sitting beside you. 

“Any reason why you’re dressed up, smelling like alcohol and cigarettes on a Wednesday night?”  You giggled while ungracefully handing him back the water bottle. “It’s a thing with my cousin. You know how it is.” 

“Being used like an ATM machine?” Jann interjected with some sass you never heard from him. 

You scoffed and raised your eyebrows. “Coby probably exaggerated the stories! I just don’t know where to spend my money!” He wasn’t convinced and pushed himself up against the wall, tuning you out, perhaps. 

“Ever since you broke up with your ex, Coby noticed that you’ve been partying a lot. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I get wanting to splurge, but you don’t even do it for yourself.” 

“Says the guy who saves up for his set-up. At least don’t be a hypocrite.” Warranting another eye roll to Jann for being a snoopy ass. “Besides, it’s fun. The party was amazing, and so many people were there.” 

“Spare me the details and sober up so you can go home.” He got up and went to his closet only to toss you a sweater when he closed it. “What?” The confusion and delayed effect of the alcohol and joint were there. 

“You are barely covered up. It’s freezing out there, and you have no layers on.” Jann sat on his gaming chair, a nod of plea to put it on without any resistance. 

After the slow, grueling struggle to put it on, the exhaustion hit you. You slowly slid under the covers of his bed. “Jann, wake me up in a few. I’ll nap. The running here must have tired me.” 

“What? You ran here?!” His question was left unanswered as you dozed off.

Jann sighed and draped the covers over your shoulder while setting up a chill late-night cruise on Gran Turismo with his friends. 

Little moments like those were never really forgotten. You just act like it’s nothing and never talk about hanging out with Jann when you two get the chance. It just happens, really. It's not like you’d ask him using a lame excuse just to talk about stuff or do activities together. His leaving you with the dumbest goodbye didn’t even make you feel empty at all. 

It just felt weird in a way. Coby started to practice more since his brother suddenly got into a rich guy’s sport instantly while he had to work hard. Men and their pride will always amaze you. 

You were lounging on your hotel bed one weekend when you got a call from Jann. You slowly deliberated before answering it because, first of all, it was out of nowhere. And secondly, Why? After three more rings, you had the guts to answer it finally. 

“Hello?”

“Took you too long to answer for someone glued to their phone the whole day, huh.”

You rolled your eyes before hearing a slight chuckle on his end. 

“Hello to you too, Jann.” 

“Hello, you. How have you been?”

How thoughtful of him to ask first. “I’ve been well. Although it is a bit fishy that you go radio silent and suddenly call me out of nowhere after a few months and then suddenly talk to me.”

“Always the skeptic.” He chuckled, then cleared his throat. “So um…A little snitch mentioned that you were in Japan, and I flew Audrey out here to spend some time together. We could use the company?”

Wow. That’s a lot to unpack right there. “Okay, what? You and Audrey are an item now? Since when was this?” He was about to speak when you cut him off. “Second, who the hell told you about me being in Japan? Third, of all…Are you proposing a double date?” 

“Hold on, what? Double date?” You groaned and dropped down to your bed when Jann sounded hell-bent on your new love life. 

“It’s just a date. I’m staying here for two months and might as well make the most of it. Answer my questions, too, though!” 

“Okay. Well. Agree to go meet us at this location tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you everything.” 

“Hm. Fine.” 

The call promptly ended with a goodbye before he sent the location of the place where you’d have your double date at. You wanted to think about it a little. The temptation was strong, though. Feeling homesick and alone can really distort a person’s perception. 

You stared at the recent call logs and sighed. You left the app and opened the chat with Tadashi to tell him that date night is now a double date. 

This was the worst idea ever. Jann has been weird around Tadashi ever since you introduced them to each other. It was awkward and tense for the first few minutes, Jann occasionally raising his eyebrows at you. You four were sitting in front of each other in a really nice sushi place that he was recommended. 

“So…Where did you two meet?” Bless this girl. Audrey will always save the day. “Actually, it’s a funny story.” You rubbed Tadashi’s hand as he snaked his arm over your shoulder. You smiled at him as he did the same. “We met at the fish market when I slipped trying to buy some fresh salmon.” 

“No way! You guys, that's so cute.” Audrey smiled at you in excitement. She’s such a good friend, but at the same time, her excitement might confuse Tadashi about your short-term set-up with him. “She looked offended when I asked her for her number, but I guess that noodle shop recommendation put me in her good books.” The three of you chuckled before Jann interjected, “That doesn’t sound creepy at all.” Audrey widened her eyes and lightly hit his shoulders before apologizing to Tadashi and you. 

The passive aggressiveness did not stop there, though. Throughout the whole dinner, Jann always had some weird bullshit about your life ever since his parents dubbed you their ‘Long lost daughter’. It’s just weird that he was the one who insisted on meeting up with you. 

At one point, Audrey decided to call it a night and even bought you some dessert when you paid the bill. It just upset you that Jann never even said thank you or acknowledged anything whatsoever.

Thankfully, that son of a bitch realized his rudeness two days later and texted you. 

J: Hey 

Y: What? 

J: Was a jerk 2 u 

J: sorry :( 

Y: It’s fine 

Y: Tadashi ghosted me. Your fault 🙄

J: U were too good for him n e ways

Y: Fuck u 

J: in your dreams 😇

Y: Ill block you if you dont stop 

J: was just jokin :( want to watch me practice driving? Audrey left and I have sum time to spare before germany 

Y: You just want me to buy you food 😒

J: nah. I’ll buy u food

Y: K fine. 

Y: Tomorrow? What time? 

J: I’ll pick u up. Send location 😛

a/n: Part 2??? Steamy part 2?? You tell me. :P

[harrywavycurly]

Just to soothe my need for fratty daddy Harry could I tempt you with a forehead kiss to maybe write him and a southern belle meeting? Doesn’t have to be our SC girlie but just another sassy southern to put him in his place?🩷

Hiiii lovey!! Okay because I love a forehead kiss and also frat Harry I will give you a little something!😂💖

*keep in mind this isn’t the Southern Comfort universe, this is just Frat!Harry meeting a sassy Southern!Reader*

A/N: Harry doesn’t have time for autographs but you just need help reaching a jar of sauce, enjoy✨

Harry is exhausted, he just wants to grab some things to make for dinner and head home with causing as little of a scene as possible. He tugs at the beanie he wore to help tame his curls and possibly make it a little harder for someone to recognize him as his eyes scan the selection of pasta in front of him, when he makes the decision to just go with a simple spaghetti he feels someone gently tap on his shoulder. He lets out a small sigh and is quick to put on a smile before he turns to see who it is that tapped him on the shoulder.

“M’sorry I don’t really have time for any autographs right now.” He tries his best to come off as polite as possible in hopes the woman staring up at him will understand that not every situation is an appropriate time to ask for him to sign something or pose for a photo.

“Well you see now sugar that’s actually perfect,” Harry’s eyes go a bit wide as your thick country accent fills his ears taking him off guard. “because I wasn’t gonna ask you for one anyway.” You watch as the smile on his face slowly morphs into a frown of sorts as his brows pinch together. “I just wanted to see if I could borrow a few of your inches and have you grab a jar of pasta sauce for me?” Harry’s eyes follow your finger as you turn your head and point towards a jar that’s on the top shelf of the aisle the two of you are on.

“Sure you can uhm,” Harry fights a smirk as he looks back at you making you raise your eyebrow at him. “Borrow a few of my inches.” You don’t miss the way his eyes quickly glance down to the crotch of his jeans before he looks back to you and shoots you a wink. Harry can’t help himself as he bites his bottom lip as he notices just how cute you are in your cut off shorts and t shirt that says “not my first rodeo” and the way you have to take a slight step backwards to look up at him as you place a hand on your hip.

“Oh well you know what they say don’t you honey?” Harry’s eyes travel back up to yours as you give him a sly smile while your hand reaches out and gently lands on his arm. “It’s not the size of the ship but it’s the motion of the ocean so it’s okay that you only have a few inches for someone to borrow.” You give his arm a light pat before you turn around and head back towards your cart that’s right in front of the pasta sauce section of the aisle leaving Harry standing there with a slight scowl on his face as a scoff leaves his lips.

“I have a nice sized ship thank you very much.” You know he’s offended by the sharp tone of his voice as he follows you towards your cart, his box of spaghetti still in his hands. “And I know how to work the ocean.” He adds as he watches as you point to the jar you want from the top shelf so he can grab it for you.

“Oh so you’re a sailor?” You ask with a smile as he hands you the jar, this earns you an eye roll from him before he looks down at you with a glare.

“A sailor? No I’m Harry Styles.” He waits for the realization of what he just said to sink in and for you to react in the way he’s used to which often includes a scream or at the very least a gasp of some sort and rushing to hug him.

“That’s not a career sugar that’s just a name.” Harry doesn’t know what to do when you just place the jar of pasta sauce into your basket and reach towards the front of it where you have your grocery list so you can cross the item off. “Don’t get me wrong now honey it’s a nice name but it’s just a name.” You explain as you look back at him and see the same slight frown on his face as when you told him you didn’t want an autograph.

“You don’t know who I am do you?” He asks with raised brows and when you just start pushing your cart down the aisle he has no choice but to follow behind you.

“Of course I do,” Harry gets hit with what he feels is a sense of relief as you stop to grab a box of spaghetti from the shelf, the same kind that he has in his hand. “You’re Harry Styles who’s not a sailor and doesn’t have time for autographs right now.” Your response makes Harry run his free hand over his face as he lets out what you swear sounds like a groan while you cross pasta off your list.

Harry opens his mouth to respond but before he can he finds himself looking at the back of your head as you continue down the aisle. His grip on the box of pasta in his hand tightens as he takes two long strides so he’s once again standing behind you as you turn the corner and head down the baking aisle. He doesn’t know why your lack of reaction to finding out who he is bothers him so much but it does.

“What’s your name then? Since you now know mine it’s only polite that you give me yours.” You laugh and shake your head as you stop a few feet down the aisle in front of the sacks of sugar.

“Sorry honey I don’t give my name to strange British men who follow me around but if you’d like to make yourself useful do you mind grabbing that sugar for me? They switched shelves it used to be on the bottom and now it’s all the way up there.” He doesn’t know what it is about you that makes him just do whatever it is that you’re asking. Maybe it’s the way your eyes go all soft and round as you look up at him mixed with your accent that thickens when you’re explaining the way the sugar is now on the top shelf instead of the bottom but either way he finds himself reaching up effortlessly and grabbing the sack of sugar you asked for and handing it to you.

“I’m not following you around.” He argues making you just laugh as you place the sugar in your cart and cross it off your list before continuing down the aisle.

“Whatever you say sugar plum.” Your voice is teasing as Harry stands there chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you get further away from him and he has to remind himself why he even came to the store in the first place as he looks down at the pasta in his hands. “Have a good rest of your night honey.” His head shoots up and he sees you give him a smile and a wave before you turn and go to the next aisle and as much as he wants to fight it he can’t help the small smile that forms on his face as he turns on his heels and heads back to the pasta aisle to grab a jar of sauce so he can finally be on his way home.

[cinnbar-bun]

At Sabaody (Perona x GN! Reader)

Requested.

Rating: SFW

Summary: Perona just was meant to drop off Zoro at Sabaody, but didn’t realize he had such a cute crewmate!!!

WC: 573

She hadn’t really heard of you, didn’t particularly pay attention when everything went down in Thriller Bark (since, duh, she was scared for her life!!!). She just knew the general Straw Hats and didn’t spend time thinking of them.

Sure, Zoro did mention your name once in a while, and his comments made you seem so… strange.

As the self-designated “handler” of Zoro, though, she dragged him off to Sabaody after two years of training at Kuraigana.

She yanked him around by his collar whenever he somehow managed to drift off the path they were going.

As they finally met up with the Straw Hats, she unceremoniously shoved him and sighed. “There! Take good care of this knucklehead, would you? And if he gives you a hard time, let me know.”

That was supposed to be it, supposed to be the final word until she heard a voice calling for them. She turned around and instantly gasped.

There you were, in your glory, innocently smiling and waving to the crew you had missed since two years ago.

To say Perona was shocked to see you was the understatement of the century. Her jaw was slack and her eyes were nearly bulging from their heads. She quickly yanked Zoro back to her and whispered, “is this (Y/n)?”

When he says yes, she immediately starts yelling at him. “THEY LOOK THIS CUTE AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME? YOU HID THEM FROM ME?!”

Everyone raises a brow at her little tantrum while Zoro shrugs. “I mean… it’s just (Y/n)”, he says, unleashing Perona’s rage.

“You fool! You’re an idiot! I would’ve worn my better clothes!! I would’ve fixed myself up more!!! You did this to me on purpose!!!”

After she finishes yelling at him, she turns around and smiles brightly, as if she didn’t just rip Zoro a new one. She giggles and twirls her parasol cutely.

“You’re (Y/n), right?”

“Yes, Perona. That’s my name.”

She turns red and gasps. “Y-you know my name?! Oh my god, you know my name already!”

She can’t handle it, covering her cheeks with a girly smile as she is floating and squealing.

“You know, why don’t you ditch these losers and come with me? Kuraigana has plenty of rooms, and I’m a verrrrry good cook.”

“I’d love to, Perona, but I have to be with my crew,” you apologize. She pouts a bit. “But I think we can write or come visit once in a while.”

Her heart races as her smile appears back on her face. “You will? You really will?”

Well, now you just gave her the golden ticket. She wants to write to you or call you on her Den-Den Mushi almost every day.

She talks about you dreamily to all the zombies and mandarills and to anyone who will listen. Mihawk practically knows your life story at this point.

Perona fantastically discusses throwing a wedding and having Moria and Mihawk walk her down the aisle as her fathers (Mihawk proceeds to think about proper wedding attire for himself).

She tries to go through the newspaper to see if there’s any interesting information about you or to see your latest bounty poster and hang it on her wall.

She’s a lovestruck girl, a bit morbid and twisted, but really, she’s got a big heart and is eager to see you again. She likes to daydream about what you two would do together.

[mikedfaist]

Thinking about what that other anon said Mike with a pop star girly who also acts and she goes back home to visit with him and he's more than overjoyed just the domesticness of it all

What I imagined was she would be British, or at least half, so when going to his hometown, it’s very much a cultural shock to her. Like, when she has a sweet tea from McDonald’s for the first time, she’s literally, “What in the actual fuck?” (Now, her being British just stems back far into my Harry Styles days when I wrote for him, and I’m just mirroring the concept I had then onto Mike.) Like when Mike was in London for like…six months? She was there with him and helped him get places and hung out with her friends and didn’t make him feel completely alone in this country.

Now, when visiting him, she’s so excited. Not a lot of people bother her there, at least not as much as when she’s in NYC. She’ll stay at his house, which she prefers. She feels right at home there. She’ll make her tea in the morning, and they’ll walk Austin around the block in the afternoon, stop into some stores in the evening time. I can imagine them grocery shopping, and he’s pushing the cart while she walks along beside him. Maybe she finds a British section in one of the aisles and nearly trips over her feet in excitement.

“Wine Gums? Are you fucking kidding me?” She grabs two bags.

There’s a grocery store in Cincinnati I believe, called Jungle Jim’s, and it’s a giant international grocery store, with an England section. I can imagine Mike takes here there so she can buy all of her British things she misses back home. What I really imagine is is he and his mom takes her there, and the moment they walk in the door, she’s missing.

“British section?”

“Yep.”

And sure enough, when they do find her, she’s sitting on the ground surrounded by her crisps and candies and biscuits.

“Might get one of everything, yeah?”

ALSO, I imagine that maybe Mike’s sister is a fan of her, so of course she’ll get her whatever merch she wants.

[mvltixcc]

Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?

Word Count: 1.3k

Pinterest board for inspiration

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You know what Buckley, if you’re gonna criticize the way I do my job why don’t you just do it yourself.” Steve said jokingly, handing Robin a vhs tape and headed back to the counter. 

“It’s not my fault you don’t know anything about movies.” She chuckled as she put the movies away. 

“Well you have fun with that, I’m gonna go man the register.” Steve said as he continued to walk away from his friend. Robin continued to put away the tapes, a few people came in here and there but it was mostly dead on this particular Friday night. Which was odd, all things considered. It was around 8 o'clock when a group of people had walked in. 

“Welcome to Family Video, let me know if you need help finding any-, oh great here we go.” Steve said as the group walked in. “What?”  Robin asked, as she was restocking the candy display. She stopped in her tracks for a moment, looking up from her spot. “Oh uh hey there.”  Robin stammered.

“Hi Robin!” Y/N said excitedly. Robin had a hard time putting words together. You usually came here at the same time every Friday to pick out a movie. Robin almost thought you weren't coming because it had gotten so late. But there you were, standing in front of her in your cheer uniform. 'Practice must have gone late." Robin thought to herself. She stood from her spot to get a better look at you. ‘God she looks so pretty.’ She thought. A few people walked in the store, causing a slight breeze to head in your direction. She caught a scent of your perfume. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took in the smell, it was sweet and gentle. It smelled of vanilla. “Are you gonna pick a movie or what Y/N?” Eddie interrupted, bringing Robin out of her thoughts.

“Yeah yeah yeah, just give me a minute you goose.” Y/N turned to her friend and said jokingly. She walked over to the movies and went section by section to find the right one. 

“Okay let's not destroy the display guys.” Steve said dreadfully as he walked over to the rest of the Hellfire club trying to clean up the mess of his hard work he had done earlier. 

“Boooo, you’re no fun Harrington.” Gareth had mocked. Steve picked up the last item, sarcastically laughing back the comment. “I’m fun, I’m Steve Harrington for god sakes.” He muttered under his breath as he walked back behind the counter. 

Robin watched you as you pondered for the right film. You had gone aisle by aisle with no luck. Then suddenly you had picked up a movie and scrunched your nose as you had inspected it. Robin felt a smile creep upon her face, she couldn't help but look down in hopes you or anyone else could see her. 

“Now why are you making that face?” Eddie questioned as you held up the movie to show him why you had said expression written upon your face. It was a copy of My Bloody Valentine.

“What about it?” Eddie continued to question. 

“Do you see what section we’re in!?” Y/N proclaimed, pointing to the sign that had said ‘romance’. 

“Oh god are you gonna make us watch a girly flick? Sam made us watch one of those last week, okay we don't need a repeat of that!” Eddie groaned. 

"I can hear you, you know!" Sam stated from across the store.

“No you goose, this movie is in the wrong section.” She laughed walking over to the counter to check out the film.

“Did you guys find everything alright?” Robin asked as she scanned your items. “Yeah we found everything okay.” Y/N said getting her money out of her wallet. “That's not true, this was in the wrong section.” Eddie stated pointing to the movie.

Robin groaned, “Damn you Harrington.” 

“What is this pick on Steve day?!?” Steve had proclaimed. 

Robin finished checking you out, she couldn't help but admire how beautiful you looked under the light. She was soon interrupted from pondering as you had said your goodbye’s, waving and flashing a small smile to Robin. She had waved back and gave the same smile in return, but that soon faded as she saw Eddie put his arm around your waist as your group walked out of the store. Robin let out a sigh and hunched over the counter, letting her head fall into her hands.

“You okay?” Steve asked his friend, giving her a small nudge. 

“Yeah I’m fine.” Robin said, picking her head up and brushing the hair out of her face. “Yeah that’s a load of bullshit and you know it.” Steve said, sitting up on the counter. “You like her don’t you?” He questioned.

“Does it really matter? She’s with Eddie, she’s not interested in girls.” Robin stated, messing with the string coming off of her sweater. Steve couldn’t help but feel sad for his friend. He couldn't imagine how hard it is for her to try and find someone during times like this. I mean this is the 80’s and a small town in Indiana for crying out loud. “Have you even asked her?” He questioned.

“Oh yeah let me just go up to the most beautiful woman ever and just say ‘wow nice weather we’re having here, oh hey by the way do you like to kiss girls?’ Do you know how stupid that sounds?!” Robin got nervous just thinking about it and when she got nervous, she rambled.

“Well don’t talk about the weather with her for starters.” Steve chuckled.

“You know what I mean dingus!” Robin said, giving her friend a slight shove. 

“Look, you won't know unless you ask, who knows maybe she likes you back? You thought that she was mean and scary because of her being a cheerleader, you were wrong about that weren’t you?” Steve stated, he tried to remain hopeful for Robin. He wanted his friend to be happy. She shrugged, Robin’s hopes in finding a girlfriend became low after everything that had happened with Vickie. She was happy that the two could remain friends, but it still stung nonetheless. 

“Next time you see her, you should ask her to hang out. It’s a start to get to know her and to know for sure right?” Steve asked, now facing her. 

“I guess, I just don’t wanna go through that kind of heartache again.” Robin said, looking down at her feet.

“Well no matter what, I’ve got your back.” Steve said, bumping into Robin. This caused her to chuckle. 

“Alright alright, let's get back to work so we can get out of here. You owe me a bite to eat after this for making me clean up your mess of your so-called organization.” Robin laughed as she went to organize the returned tapes.

“You’re never gonna let that go are you?” Steve asked. 

“Nope.” Robin yelled from the back.

Next chapter

[interestellarprincess]

Margaret

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: it was their engagement party and Lance made a speech.

Warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff and a poorly written english (not my first language)

A/N: this song just got me soooo much that i needed to write something with it, and well, it needed to be with our boy Lance. So, SUMMONING ALL LANCE GIRLIES!!!!

Everyone gathered at the 20 seats dining table was paying attention to the next person giving the toast. All of yours and your fiance’s friends and family were paying attention to when he stood up along with the sound that the silver knife made when it met the glass of the champagne cup. Even with the place full, the only one you were able to see was him, your future husband, Lance Stroll.

“Well, good night everyone!” He started a bit shy but it didn’t last much. “Some of you know, I met Y/N on a rooftop a year and a half ago. It was a beautiful sunny day in Monaco, before the race weekend, and she was there with some of our friends laughing and drinking champagne.” He smiled with the memory and everyone that looked into his face in that moment would see how in love with you he was. “Now, something that you don’t know or may not remember is that she was wearing a beautiful white summer dress, and man -he sighed- when I saw her, I remember turning to Estie and saying ‘oh, I might be in trouble right now’, I felt I could jump from that rooftop anytime” everyone at the table laughed with him. “Truth is, the moment I saw Y/N something clicked inside me, and in a rush, I saw myself spending my entire life with that beautiful girl in white.” He looked directly at you, who were already with glistening eyes from the happy and emotional tears you were letting fall. “And then, after that brief moment living inside my head, I remembered something Chloe told me when I was about to walk her down the aisle at her wedding: ‘you’ll find your person, Lance, and you’ll know when you do. Because when you know, you know.’ And that was it, she was right there and, in that moment, I knew it was her.” everyone at the table applauded and he continued “Y/N, I loved you since the first time I saw you, and I promise I’ll keep loving you ‘till the moon falls from the sky, because you are my everything and the only thing I’m completely certain that I made and knew it right.” He smiled at you, now with his eyes also glistening from the tears he was letting escape. “So, what I want to say to you guys gathered here is, it’s worth it. It’s worth the waiting, don’t give up because when you know, you know and I’m sure someday some of you will too.” He finished, you stand up, pulled him close and kissed him passionately while everyone were cheering to your love.

After the kiss, Lance took some distance to finish his words. “Oh, by the way, the party’s December 18th!”

[toomuchracket]

i’m literally waiting for my bus right now and just say this baby in her pram she was wearing her little hat and the dad had the shopping in the little basket underneath the pram. can imagine dad matty taking baba with him while they do the grocery for girlie

this feels like it fits in the og dad!matty universe (the flatmates but older) to me. like i see it so clearly, matty and baby dylan!! you're back at work, but matty's not, so he's in full dad/househusband mode (which he lowkey loves lmao) - the two of them drop you off at work, then go home so dylan can have her morning nap while matty does some washing or whatever. and it's a nice day outside - cold, but sunny - so he decides to walk to the shops with her rather than take the car; he doesn't have a lot to get, he's just quite in the mood to cook you a slightly fancier dinner tonight as a treat, just because he loves you, so it's literally just buying ingredients for that and maybe a pint of milk or something. anyway, once dylan's had her nap and a bottle (and a cuddle from daddy), matty puts her into her little purple snowsuit and the woolly hat your mum knitted her - he's like "dyl you are genuinely the cutest baby of all time. i need to send mummy a picture of you oh my god" and she giggles - before getting her all comfy in her pram and setting off. and it's so cute, him just chatting to her the whole time and making her smile, which makes him smile in return. dylan stays awake and alert even in the shop, and matty invents a game where he holds up random food items like "yes or no, dyl?" which makes her laugh so much - he almost buys everything she reacted positively to, just because she was so happy, but making a nice dinner out of a packet of babybels and a banana seems like a difficult thing to do, so he decides against it in favour of ingredients for a chicken supreme lol. but i think he takes her down the baby food aisle so they can pick out something special for dylan's dinner, too; can just see matty reading the little jars and being like "OOH dyl this one sounds good. i think i'd have that one if i were you. shall we get it? yeah, i think we will", before going to the checkout and making funny faces to make her laugh while they queue. him repeatedly bending to put the shopping under the pram also turns into an elaborate game of peekaboo, which the baby finds so funny that she laughs all the way home, before she has another nap after all the excitement. adorable <3

[jester-lover]

hi !!! i saw ur hobie x desi reader and im in LOVEE

i saw u had requests open so i was wondering if you could do one for miguel ohara ?? if u do pls tag me !! i need more desi fics and i'd write them but ive been so busy </3

Miguel with a Desi! S/O (headcanons)

cw/ fem! Reader, including multiple desi cultures bc my girlies need all the representation we can get (it’s slim pickings out here) all fluff, mentions of insecurities (sorry I didn't do a lil drabble, I could not think of one)

Hobie version!

He's obsessed with you!

This man wakes up every morning to bask in your greatness

Miguel often has a hard time understanding his own emotions, so this relationship might start out a bit rocky because of the insecurities he has about starting relationships

(I know very little abt comics! Miguel, but I do know he had many girlfriends, so…)

He loves you in any clothing, but something about seeing you cultural clothing just makes him so happy

If the two of you are going somewhere, he’s making a conscious effort to match whatever traditional clothes you're wearing

Your parents love him, no doubt.

Miguel is a serious, family-oriented man, who cares about you! They love him, he’s part of the family.

He cooks you amazing Mexican food, and you cook him amazing Desi food

The entire spider society is at yalls door each night, fighting tooth and nail for a plate

He especially loves it when you make him more simple, homey dishes, like buttery parathas with achaar, or roti with saag paneer (iykyk)

Look at Miguel’s hair and tell me he doesn’t oil it, you CAN’T

You two most definitely spent Sunday afternoons watching soap operas (Mexican or Desi!) and oiling each others hair 

He takes this ritual very seriously

“Keep your head still, I’m trying to get to the back of your scalp!”

He’s the type to spend time and effort massaging the oil into your scalp and roots

You and Miguel spend hours at the local Asian grocery store, just wandering down the aisle

Even though he swears he’s only gonna go with you for 20 minutes or something

Seeing you enjoy life’s simple pleasures makes him happy too