#i’m not a fan of overly sweet apples | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roanniom · 4 years ago

Text

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield.

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

889 notes · View notes

crab-in-a-pocket · 4 years ago

Text

reserved farmer headcanons + meeting the bachelors for the first time!

wanted to make some generally reserved farmer headcanons to kick off this blog and bc i see a lot of very friendly farmers out there and i... am not one of them LMAO

additionally, there's reference to a supposed volatile relationship with a (former?) loved one (projection time!)

also i forgot to open my askbox bc idk how to tumblr ?? i think it's open now (i hope).

tw: drinking and alcoholism, references to past trauma, one Bad Word (sh^t!)

when you first meet everyone, it's a quiet greeting and maybe a witty remark, but you don't stay for any chit-chat

close-lipped smiles are your signature move, along with the Man Nod whenever you run into someone

you are, of course, a nice and courteous person but you don't feel the need to say hello to everyone every damn time you pass by them because, really, you're too busy rushing to Pierre's for some seeds or lugging around foraged beach stuff

okay, maybe some of them think you're a little cold and an introvert who has... problems

but you're not! you are a strong and emotionally stable farmer who gets Shit Done and prefers to observe over participate and think over talk!

mayor lewis is extremely puzzled and almost mistakes you for someone else-- it's been over a decade and people change too much, too soon. he makes a remark about a wishing well your grandfather had built long ago (remember the well? how you fell in it that one time?) and you nod along politely (i didn't fall, i climbed in because i desperately needed my wish to come true)

it's nice to meet people who aren't as temperemental as the tides. maybe, for once, you could have a proper relationship with someone.

alex

easily the most annoying and extroverted person in town what with his obsession with sports and loud, brash personality but you two get along fabulously because you had that same passion for gridball in college before you were too busy being a corporate slave

he's a little surprised that you sit next to him at the saloon but he goes along easily and the conversation flows between the two of you easily, ranging from future plans (thinking of going pro... think i'll make it?) to the weather without sounding like you're making fake smalltalk (i wanted to play pro, too, and here i am now. if you really want it, you'll have to leave this all behind)

there's something genuine about him that's intriguing and it leaves you wanting to find out and see what the real alex is like inside because you can see through that wall he's made

and there's something enigmatic about you, who is reserved and quiet and seems to be a simple open book, when in fact, you are a very attractive onion with many, many layers

sam

you think he's immature. a wildchild, a manchild, a wildmanchild, really. sam, on the other hand, is drawn in by your calmness and how in-control you appear to be-- when you offer to play a game of pool when sebastian doesn't show up, he's delighted at the opportunity to know you better

okay, so he is immature and a wildmanchild but there is a softness in him that surprises you every time he shows it-- which is frequently around you

he has a soft smile to counteract his proud one and he's so in awe of how you get so much stuff done every day (i don't know how you do it, that's gotta be tough), every week, and every month (you'd like the responsibility, i think. to me, it's one big project i need to finish)

he has instant crush on you because you're so cool even though your line of profession really doesn't evoke much awe. i mean, you're attractive, you are so in control of your life, and you have a really cute smile whenever he compliments you-- how could he not?

shane

bit bold of you to sit next to him at the saloon because every knows he's can be a real asshole, but he glances at you with a hint of awe and more than a hint of annoyance. you elect to ignore this and choose to order a whisky on the rocks (if you don't drink, call it apple juice)

whisky: shane's a touch impressed because you look like a lightweight. well, it's nice that someone can hold their liquor. he makes a remark about it (planning on getting drunk, huh?) and you raise a brow at him, looking a little haughty and tell him that it's your drink for the week. he's annoyed at your remark and starts an argument that surprisingly, settles down into a civil conversation

apple juice: he snorts at that and makes a remark about meeting penny for your lessons the next day. you play along and sip at your drink, making witty remarks (thank yoba for hangovers. it's the non-drinker's edge, really. just like not having liver failure). he's not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed at your cool-as-a-cucumber personality, not sure if it's too big city or too closed-off

you offer to buy him a pizza if you can take a away his beer-- at any rate, he looks like he'll end up with liver failure the way he's going. shane aquiesces and devours the entire pizza. your conversation is slow and punctuated with his loud chewing but you're pleasantly suprised that he's quite smart and well-read about whatever you're interested in

the fourth time you sit next to him, he turns down your pizza and doesn't say a word. neither do you and it's almost like it's back to square one until you realize that he hasn't made a single salty remark about anything. you decide to try again the day after tomorrow-- nothing comes too quickly to people like you and shane.

sebastian

it was the necklace you wore that caught his eye. a shining teardrop stone hanging off a gleaming silver chain. he had spoken before he could stop himself and watched as you smiled and told him he was right-- it is supposed to be a Yeti's tear.

you're pleased to meet someone who is also a homebody and a touch more reserved than a lot of other people in town. he's easy to get along with (oh, you're kidding, you really have the signed edition?) and he's got pretty good taste when it comes to literature-- after all, who can refuse a good sci-fi book? (of course i do, i'm dedicated fan)

oddly enough, your conversation is quick and eager and not all reserved. instead of the companionable silence everyone assumes you two to have, you two nearly talk over each other because you finally have someone to complain to about everyone's over-friendliness and he finally has someone who understands what it's like to be trapped in a small world

you tease him about the corporate rat race and he fires back at you about being a part of it. you like sebastian and he likes you-- it's as simple as that.

elliot

he had heard of you through leah who had heard of you through emily who had heard of you through gus who had heard of you from lewis. it was a long grapevine and he's not sure how much of the truth was preserved and it's almost a relief to meet you because, to be frank, he's tired of being the town's newcomer.

first-- you're not peppy and overly cheerful at all. second, you are definitely not hot-tempered. and third, there's something so fascinating about you, something hidden under your calm, pragmatic character. he finds a kindred spirit in you, save for the flowery words and, admittedly, the vanity.

you're amused to meet a writer living on the beach. the cabin was built by one of your grandfather's old friends, a rather surly man who had taken a liking to you when you were much younger. while the hut is in no way fancy, you can't help but consider how pretentious and, contrastingly, humble the writer must be. pretentious in such a way that he thinks living in a sandy, damp shack is a way to beat writer's block (it's odd, it's rarely a choice people make) and humble in such a way that he accepts and bears with living in a worn house with little complaint (it's admirable, if not a little silly!)

you find yourself in his company late at night when you can't sleep and it's so easy to open up to him because he's kind, he listens, and most importantly, he's not embarassed to admit he's got faults, at least to you. you let him see past your collected facade and into your cracked heart far sooner than you think and elliot doesn't mind at all

harvey

you might be the most mysterious person in town simply because of the way you present yourself. he finds himself always stuttering a little whenever you're around because of the way you watch him, set in a relaxed stance, your gaze flat and cool. later, he realizes that it's your resting face. he wonders about what you'd look like if you smiled-- really smiled

he's touched at the fact that you buy him coffee whenever he had to patch you up-- which is frequently, given your liking for the mines. you're adorable when he gives you general anesthesia. he had run out of local anesthesia and you needed a fair amount of stitches and though you told him that you have a high pain tolerance (stitches are far more painful than you think. i really don't want to put you through that), he insisted and you let him (fine, fine. get on with it, doctor). you had let out several inappropriate jokes under anesthesia and your cheeks had hurt from laughing non-stop

harvey's entranced. there's no other way to put it-- he's bewitched by your bright character hiding under that collected facade. he never pries for your secrets because he's got secrets, too. you like harvey because he's sweet and compassionate and even though he has to put up a firm, professional affectation, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

you see him as a friend at first, all platonic and it seems to be the end of it. but one day, as you hand him a coffee, he laughs and smiles and hands you a coffee just the way you like it. you're falling for him so hard and fast you think someone's put a spell on you that makes you notice the minute expressions on his face and mull over the way he talks to you. you're in love with him-- you can only hope he feels the same way too

#stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew shane #stardew alex #stardew sebastian #stardew headcanon #stardew farmer #sdv hcs #sdv headcanons #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv shane #sdv reserved farmer #sdv farmer #my phone hates me but here :D

319 notes · View notes

uwuwriting · 5 years ago

Text

Hawks w/ fem!reader who’s struggling to conceive

Request: If you're still accepting bnha requests, I was hoping you can write one for Hawks and his s/o (defs can be gender neutral, trans, etc.). I've become attached to the kiddos you have written for them and I'm wondering, what if they had trouble conceiving? From IVF to surrogacy, not everyone has an easy time making kids. Whatever route they take is up to you (whatever fits best), but I think it would be a sweet moment where they dont think they can ever have kids then BAM! Suddenly, twins. - @sykandron

I’ve been reading some hc from other fandoms *cough* Haikyuu *cough* and I felt that it was about time to tackle this ask. Since I’m a 17 year old toddler you would assume that I know nothing about this. But I study biology and that doesn’t make this any easier bc I don’t know a single thing about this topic. So I did my research and I tried my best. Hope you like it. Love yaa. 💖💖💖

warnings: triggering content, trouble conceiving, some depressive thoughts.

-Keigo and you have been together since high school and he married you last year.

-Even though he’s a pro hero which is a very stressful and time consuming job, it doesn’t take him much time before he wants to start a family.

-You are in love that’s for sure so a person made form your love is not hard to imagine but you are beyond concerned.

-Keigo doesn’t have much time for himself and as much as you don’t mind not seeing him for long amounts of time but a child needs to see their father.

-And you don’t believe that you can raise a child on your own.

-Your relationship has been built on trust and communication, so you sit down and talk everything through him.

-If he’s being honest he has been concerned about the time he will get to spend with his child as well because he’s number 2....and that’s a handful.

-So you made an agreement.

-You would make a schedule that Keigo would have to follow unless something urgent came up and he would try to minimize his time spent at work.

-You would give this schedule a try for a month and if he could keep it up you would begin to try for a baby.

-Surprisingly he made it work and had to leave for an emergency only four times.

-So you got to baby making and you went at it for months.

-When you got no results even after trying the “best” positions and eating specific foods that would make you more fertile, you started getting discouraged.

-Keigo suggested going to the doctor to check if something was wrong, with both of you.

-After your appointment you had to wait for some days before you could get your results back.

-And boy if they weren’t disappointing.

-Turns out that you both had problems of your own, Keigo not having a strong enough seed and you having an overly hostile environment so conceiving would be a challenge.

-To say your were devastated was an understatement.

-You closed yourself off and for the first time in your relationship, there was no communication.

-Keigo tried talking to you, tried to pull you out of your own thoughts, but to no avail.

-Your brain was working against you and it showed.

-You wouldn’t eat, you slept longer and became sloppy in the workplace.

-He would find you bawling your eyes out in the bathroom and then coming out with a hollow look.

-It was killing him as much as it was killing you.

-So he did some research.

-And when I say some I mean that he went to like 15 doctors and bought 50+ books about the issue and he came up with around 10 solutions to your problem.

-Of course the last two on the list were the ones you wanted to avoid, adoption and sperm donation, not that you minded adopting but you wanted a small Keigo to be honest and the idea of donation was off the table.

-You felt very uncomfortable with the idea.

-So after he talked to you and convinced you to try what he found, you agreed to try for a year.

-If nothing came of it you would adopt.

-And that’s how it all started.

-Vitamins and special pills, doctor appointments and hormonal treatments.

-Nothing seemed to work and you were staring to get disappointed.

-It was nearing the end of the deadline you had set when you started throwing up in the morning.

-Your appetite changed and everything smelled awful, your feelings were all over the place and you couldn’t seem to control your tears.

-Keigo was the logical one for once and took you to the doctor.

-When he came inside the room with the results of your tests with a smile so wide and bright that it blinded you, you knew something was up.

- “I’m happy to announce that you made it! You are pregnant dear.”

-You swear that the whole clinic heard your squeals.

-Keigo went full dad mode even though it would be some time before the baby could actually be seen on a sonogram.

-He changed his work schedule even more, staying home longer and minimizing his patrols.

-Sure he was the number 2 hero but his baby is his top priority and you cannot change my mind.

-When you got your first sonogram and saw them, Keigo had been called in for an emergency and try as he might he couldn’t avoid it.

-You had to push him out of the clinic because he wouldn’t leave.

- “The public is in danger you dumb bird!”

- “I AM NOT MISSING MY CHILD!”

-What in the world??

-You got home before him and you waited patiently, sonogram in hand and two champagne glasses one for actual champagne and one for some apple juice.

-The moment he stepped through the door he rushed to you and would’ve tackled you if you weren’t pregnant.

- “Are they healthy? Is everything alright? I don’t like that smile you’ve got. Is it the baby or because I ate your Doritos, I swear I’m going to buy you more!”

- “YOU ATE MY DORITOS????”

-When you raised your hands in the air he saw the pictures you were holding and he focused on that and that alone.

-You followed his gaze and giggled, patting the space next to you and pecking him on the cheek.

-He looked at the images in front of him and....was confused beyond belief.

-Is..is that a baby? It looks like a shadow. Is it a shadow? Are all babies shadows? Shadow babies....

-Seeing the look on his face you let a hearty laugh before grabbing his hands and making them into fists.

-You brought them together and traced one of them with one finger while your other hand was tracing one shadow on the sonogram.

- “That’s one baby and that’s another baby.”

-He froze, looking at his fists with his brows furrowed until it hit him.

-Twins.

-He was having twins.

-All this hard work for a baby and he had been blessed with two.

-He looked at you then, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a smile made its way on his face.

-He hugged you tightly, his tears wetting his your shirt and a string of ‘thank you’s and ‘I love you’s spilling from his mouth.

-He was truly happy with his family.

-Just him, you and your two nuggies against the world.

BONUS:

- “Weak sperm my ass I got you pregnant twice in one go.”

- “It doesn’t work that way you dumb KFC meal.”

- “Chicken nugget juniors disagree with you. Ain’t that right my little chicks??”

TAG TEAM AY: @brattyquirks , @the-arcana-fan-fic

#my hero academia keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #bnha keigo #keigo x you #hawks x reader #mha hawks #domestic hawks #hawks #bnha

875 notes · View notes

hallsoffandom · 4 years ago

Text

get this popular I dare you

Grapes are objectively and literally the best fruit (technically berry) in the whole wide world, nothing else can convince me otherwise. I will state why i think this and why you bitches opinions are invalid and wrong as fuck. First of all I would like to start by saying that you get more grapes buying a bundle then you do apples, bananas or even peaches. Therefore it is a perfect average snack to enjoy oneself with while doing activities. It is easy to store as they are small and you can choose how many you store into the containers you use, unlike with apples which you have to put effort into cutting. Another great thing about grapes is their perfect size, not too big that you get left with pieces left over, not like with bananas where you get left with scrapes, just a perfect size that leaves you with no trace or mess to pick up. That sounds fucking great right? Right?! Another amazing and fabulous thing about grapes is their texture, they provide you with a scrumptious liquid to hydrate your body with while also simultaneously giving you a delicious flavour for your throbbing taste buds. I swear let your tongue fuck those grapes or else life isn’t worth being real. It’s almost perfect how the thin layer of skin on the grape keeps it well and protected, like it was just made to be popped between your teeth. It’s almost as satisfying as cotton candy dissolving in your mouth, or popping candy. Speaking of candy must i remind you that grapes are objectively better than chocolate or any sort of candy/lolly or whatever you fucking call it. Also- WINE. Yes I was going to get to this part, without grapes we wouldn’t have wine, which would be a fucking disaster, therefore we should give more respect and privilege to the common grape, by divulging ourselves and feasting on their brothereen.The taste of wine isn’t the complete favourite of mine, but just for the grapes and the feeling i get i will choke it all back like i’m consenting to drowning. Which i do sometimes but that’s an essay for another time. I’m not a big fan of raisins, but the fact that grapes have ANOTHER use is mind blowing to me. It’s like potatoes with their diverse ability to function as different food options. You have alcohol, drinks- such as juice which i will touch upon later-, healthy snacks which are easy to transport and consume waste free, and they can be turned into even more diverse styled snacks. It’s a bit of happiness for everyone, which i think we can all use a little bit of don’t you agree man? Grapes are easily accessible to everyone, being able to grow in many different climates it offers an opportunity for everyone to enjoy their loveliness through their own stores and gardens. While some more exotic fruits and berries lack the ability to do, that makes them objectively better than any other sort of exotic grown edible. Some of their other uses include: juice. The grape juice they make are very poggers, it took some time to work up the effort to try it without cumming but that failed, i still did coom but the grape juice tasted nice at least. It was sweet but not overly sweet enough to stop me from finishing it. Some have a slight sour aftertaste, and I like sour so i like grape juice even more then.There’s also jelly, grape jelly is pog and nice. It can go on toast which is a perfect level of sweet and savoury, offering a nice breakfast, lunch or dinner. The marvelous texture of grape jelly lures you in, you must buy some to put on toast, you absolutely must. You have no choice comrades. There’s also seedless grapes, which are different. They aren’t actually seedless you idiots, the seeds just didn’t develop proper hard shells due to genetic errors. But regardless it makes everything all the more better when you pop them in your mouth. Not that grape seeds are unhealthy to eat, quite the opposite actually. /c

#grape #copypasta #juice #so many emotions #i feel powerful #fear me #lmao what #I found this on ao3 lmao #pukicho #pmseymourva

35 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Text

Eve’s Inferno - Rukiyui oneshot

Dante's Inferno AU. Eve has searched almost every circle of Hell, leaving just one left. In order to find Adam, she must face the one responsible for their banishment from Eden. But the Devil is used to whispering sweet nothings, and Ruki has succeeded in getting under her skin once before. Rukiyui oneshot.

AN: Made for the Diabolik Lovers Zine @diabolikloverszine and published with permission since the sales have closed. I had this idea a long time ago, due to Ruki often being associated with Lucifer in the games. Hope you enjoy!

Rated T

3,000 words (also posted on Ao3)

Eve's Inferno

Disembarking from the small boat, a young woman kept her hand in the ferryman's as he assisted her down. He smiled gently with ashen lips and doleful eyes, nodding to a set of double doors awaiting her.

Thanking him, she offered coins for the ride but was met with a quiet decline. He soon pushed off the dead earth, slinking back up the dark, murky waters of the cavern's river.

The grey doors had vast, intricate carvings of desperate people rising out of it, frozen mid-air, arms outstretched and clawing as though trying to escape. She wondered if they were real human souls, trapped as such a mundane part of the underworld. Taking a breath, she set her shoulders and reached out. The doors opened easily under her hesitant touch.

The woman didn't know what to expect behind them. Perhaps fire and brimstone, the dead or dying, tortured continuously and screams ringing out. But the vast, open space looked empty. There were no cries of pain, blissfully silent. A large cave awaited her, walls dark and jagged with obsidian rock. At her feet lay a cool, frozen lake, solid enough for her to stand on as it took up the entirety of the floor, spreading wide. Curling, misty air didn't chill her bones or make breath visible, instead feeling a little heady.

She steeled herself, walking forwards. In all the domain only a single thing truly held her gaze, that of a lone white tree standing on a small island. The shock of white and green was impossible to ignore.

With careful steps, she crossed the lonely, silent space. Walking onto the island, fresh grass crunched beneath her feet- soon coming to a stop. Breath catching, wide eyes took in the sight of a man with familiar dark hair reclined against the tree. He held a book, pale fingers gripping its spine.

She could not place how she felt, standing there, watching him calmly read. Soft, blue-grey eyes looked as disarming as she remembered when they flicked up to her. But they could sharpen. That tempting mouth could praise and charm one moment and then damn her the next.

"Good to see you, Yui."

"Hello Ruki," she murmured, folding her hands before her skirts. Swallowing, she babbled; "I didn't pay the ferryman, I hope that's alright."

"Azusa can be overly generous, it hardly matters," he dismissed, shifting long legs. "What can I do for you?"

Yui's fingers twisted into her sleeve. The casualness of his question belied Ruki's penchant for manipulation. If she weren't careful, she'd make a mistake, just like their last meeting all those years ago in Eden.

So, raising her head, she set thin shoulders. "I'm here for Adam," her tone was firm and final.

No surprise flickered in his expression, attention returning to his book as though bored.

"I-if you can't give him to me, then I'd like to know where he is. I've been looking for him in the other eight circles for-"

"Centuries, I know."

Annoyance flared, "if you knew, why didn't you meet with me? The other princes weren't very..." she trailed off, curbing her tongue for the sake of diplomacy, "helpful."

A deceptively pleasant chuckle rang out. "Do you expect the ruler of a domain to heed every whim from their subjects? Especially subjects of hell?" Cruel lips curved as he shifted, setting the book down before standing. "Besides, most people when searching for someone will give a description."

Yui held her ground when he approached, heart thundering- drumming wildly in her ears. "You know what he looks like."

"But you don't."

The dark-haired young man, despite his handsome features, did not possess a presence that stood out or screamed malice. When compared with the other princes, his appearance wasn't as eye-catching, attitude not as loud or attention-grabbing. In a crowd, your gaze would likely pass over him. Despite this, when he stepped closer, Yui felt a pressure in the air. A type of sticky humidity that heralded storms. Those eyes, so calm and cold, implored her to confess her sins and sink to her knees. He'd treat her like a pet. A well-fed, maybe even cared for pet, but a pet nonetheless.

"P-please don't toy with me," she murmured. "You probably removed my memories of his face and voice, but I remember Eden. You won't keep us apart."

Ruki reached for her, brushing a shock of cold knuckles against her cheek. Yui congratulated herself for not flinching despite the rush of feeling that attacked her. Compared to the second circle of Lust, with prince Laito's thoughtless, grabby hands, this was nothing. And yet... such a small touch demanded her attention, skin pricking.

"Of course you'd assume I did that. Doesn't it occur to you that he put you here and dictated your punishment?" Hot breath fanned over her mouth, and something tightened in Yui's lower stomach. Lulled by the stroke of his fingers gliding from chin to ear, Yui rocked back on her heels to try to clear her head.

That touch changed- locking into blonde hair and grasping tight to prevent escape. Yui stilled with a gasp, gritting her teeth.

"You're afraid," he purred.

"N-no," she thought for a moment and admitted; "not of what you can do to me. Just of my memories fading."

She'd seen what that did to souls. Lost, wandering figures mourning their own condition. They couldn't even remember their own names.

That touch turned gentle and soothing again, but she didn't trust it not to turn into violence at a second's notice. "Why do you care so much about finding him?"

"B-because I love him?" Wasn't that a question with an obvious answer? She'd literally been created from a rib to be Adam's other half.

"You can't love someone you don't remember. Someone you don't know. You'd trust a stranger like that?" Devastatingly beautiful eyes shifted over her pale expression, his pupils slightly slit. Ruki leaned closer, lips ghosting over the delicate shell of her ear. This time she was unable to suppress a shiver. "You should give yourself over to your Master's hands instead... I wouldn't treat my Livestock poorly."

Something hot churned in her stomach. "You're not my Master and I'm not cattle."

A low chuckle resounded in her ear, firm fingers gliding down her spine. "I seem to remember us having a conversation similar to this a long time ago. Do you recall?"

Yui squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push back the memory. It flooded through the gaps between her fingers like water. She could suddenly smell thick, choking scents of roses, feel lush grass and flowers brushing at bare legs. Lashes reluctantly opened, and her breath hitched.

The lake and lone tree were nowhere in sight. Ruki had vanished. Instead, she found herself wandering through the achingly familiar gardens of Eden. Birds sang to each other in twisting trees, lions and other predators lazed around, heedless of her or other prey. Yui felt her skin prick from a faint chill in the air, glancing down to find herself naked.

It was all exactly as she remembered. She'd become Eve again, lost in those painful memories that had haunted her for centuries. Only... she still couldn't remember Adam.

---

Rounding a large flower bed, Eve lay eyes on a single tree, separated from all other greenery. It bore fruit, red apples catching the sun in such a way that salvia filled her mouth at the mere thought of tasting them.

"You can have one if you like."

Eve's gaze slid down the apple tree's truck to find a man leaning against it. No, not a man.

An angel.

She frowned, making no move to cover herself as she approached.

"But I was told not to."

The dark-haired angel smiled, and she felt no reason to be afraid. "Why do you obey blindly?"

"I don't know."

Some frustration marred his handsome face. He gestured to a small pond not too far away, "go look into the water."

The woman did so because she'd been told to, and it didn't cross her mind to resist. Kneeling at the water's edge, blonde hair slid forward and Eve's breath hitched at the sight of her own reflection. Her eyes struggled to take in the image, a stunned hand raising to touch her reddening cheek.

'That's me...'

Complicated thoughts blazed to life in her mind where none had been before. Wonder, perception, a briefly vain absorption in her own existence having palpable proof before her eyes. What a gentle and pretty face. She loved it simply because it was her own, something that only she owned. Eve was at once changed. No longer an extension of Adam, she felt like a person.

The angel knelt not too far away. "I'll ask again; why do you obey blindly?"

"Well because..." she trailed off, swallowing. "I suppose I was created after Adam so I should behave in order to show my gratitude?"

"You act like a Livestock that's been reared and bred in a shelter. That doesn't sound like honest loyalty to me."

"No, I- maybe it isn't, " her arms moved to hug herself, wondering why she felt a little cold. Maybe it was the strange, isolated feeling his question awakened in her. "What is... honest loyalty?"

His eyes sharpened, tone becoming firm. "It's when you can be certain the one you've put faith in can care for you. In turn, you support them, like they're a worthy Master."

Eve picked at soft green grass, mulling this over. "Sounds as though you have experience with it."

"Mn, though lately, I've been feeling dissatisfied."

She got the sense that he wouldn't be saying anything more. "I feel... different. Like I'm not the same Eve as a moment ago."

Her companion shifted to stand, some white feathers from exquisite wings falling to land on the water's surface. She watched them float and twirl slowly with fascination.

"If you're someone else, you could always give yourself a new name," he casually suggested.

"Give... myself?" Eve chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. A name came out of nowhere. No one suggested it, so at once, she felt slightly giddy and pleased with her hushed murmur of: "...Yui."

Blue-grey eyes shifted. A pale hand rested on his chest as he bowed slightly. "Yui. Well met."

"Well met," she blushed, glancing at the funny material wrapped around his body curiously. "What's your name?"

"I was given the name Lucifer."

Yui tilted her head, sending lush falls of blonde over one shoulder. "Oh, did you change yours too?"

"Yes. I chose the name Ruki instead."

Her hands curled in her hair, testing out the new name on her tongue. "Ru...ki."

Ruki stiffened slightly, attention weighed upon her like a heavy, palpable thing with substance and form. She felt her cheeks flush, remembering the reflection of herself in the water. For the first time, she wondered what he might be thinking. What an angel's own perception of her was like.

"Mn... there's no need to get caught up with trivial things," he cleared his throat, walking towards the tree again.

"I wanted to ask about those things draping over your body," Yui chirped, following.

"My clothes? More trivial talk," he sighed, not particularly annoyed, however. Ruki stopped by the truck and rested a hand upon it, "you can have clothes too if you desire."

"I can?" So many new things were being offered to her today! She felt as though discovery was perhaps the single most wonderful thing to experience. She hungered for more- like the reflection and her new name. "Yes. I'd like that!"

He made a gesture, twisting his wrist in the air- and at once those strange, wondrous threads were wrapped around her, covering her shoulders but clinging around her chest and then falling down to her feet like a waterfall. Yui touched the material, finding it soft. She giggled, looking at him. "Thank you," she said breathlessly.

Ruki nodded, face unreadable. He then gestured to the fruit hanging above them. "You can still take one of these if you wanted."

At this, she hesitated, stopping by his side. "I... I'm not sure..."

"Did we not establish that you don't have to give your loyalty to someone who hasn't earned it?" His pleasant voice remained patient. A cool hand, chilled to the touch, met the base of her spine. The woman stilled, feeling that palm drag up her back, before curling in her hair. He seemed at once too close and yet not near enough.

"Maybe if I... take a bite, I can explain that I was just discovering new things? I'll know what it's like and won't be tempted anymore," she murmured.

Strong fingers tightened, stroking the back of her neck. "What an interesting word to use. Yes, I suppose you won't be tempted. You'll have had experience, and no one should punish you for that."

She agreed and reached up of her own volition, grasping a red fruit and yanking to break it free. She then sank blunt teeth into the apple, making a noise as juices overflowed in her mouth. Ruki's slit gaze dilated.

"It tastes wonderful!" She smiled, offering him some. The angel refused, taking a few steps back.

"I'm happy for you, but I should really be going now."

"Oh," Yui wilted, not even noticing the darkening, angry clouds above. "A-alright, I'll see you later! I should go share this with Adam."

"Yes..."

---

Blinking, Yui shook herself. Like an after-image, Ruki and the gardens changed. They melted away, revealing the lonesome lake once more. Ruki stood without his wings, having lost them in the fall. She could remember hearing about his uprising, his sins. They were far worse and more numerous than her own, and yet there they stood, together in the last layer of Hell. Two traitors.

"You didn't need to show me that," Yui murmured. "I do still remember. Please, please just tell me where Adam is."

Ruki looked almost deceptively kind for a moment, features softening. "They forgave Adam. He has been accepted into Heaven and left you behind, Eve."

Her knees threatened to buckle, lungs constricting. No, no, she needed to calm down. Of course he'd lie. "The truth, please," she gritted out.

Strong hands caught her slim waist as she moved back, starting violently at his touch and proximity. "I am not lying, Livestock."

"How can you expect me to believe you?" tears pricked her eyes.

"I understand-" he hissed, gathering Yui's thin, shivering body closer and curling around her. "I'm the snake that tempted Eve. You don't trust me and see me as nothing but an unworthy Master- but there's a place for you, here Eve." The smoke of a smile lingered on his lips, unseen by her, but she could hear it, feel it in his voice. "Here, by my side. We're a lot alike, cast out for our sins. All we did was utilise our free will. I'm not like him..." Ruki quietly purrs. "I won't shut you out no matter how much you sin."

Tears leaked down her cheeks as Yui raised her head, finding his lips much closer than anticipated. "Just give me your loyalty."

Trembling, the sensation of his mouth pressing against hers stole her breath. Shame rose to mingle with the glow he elicited within her chest, feeling herself considering, wondering if perhaps- just maybe... he genuinely cared for her.

'What is...honest loyalty?'

Yui's fingers curled in his clothes.

'It's when you can be certain the one you've put faith in can care for you. In turn, you support them, like they're...a worthy Master.'

Two hands shot out, shoving against his chest.

Ruki grunted, eyes flashing. "Yui-"

"No! I-if it is true, then I-I'm happy for him!" Yui yelled. "Adam deserves to be free, but I won't ever give you my loyalty. I won't be your Livestock," she turned, hurrying away.

"Yui!" Ruki snarled, something hard leaking into his voice.

She stepped off the island, landing upon the lake a second before his hand met a barrier. Yui blinked, noting that he couldn't seem to set foot off the island, unable to leave the tree where he'd helped her commit the first sin of man. It seemed someone up in Heaven had a sense of humour.

Her blonde hair bounced as she jogged away, having no idea where to go. Anywhere was better than with him.

"You can't leave," came his quiet voice. "We'll keep going over this. We'll keep doing it, as many times as it takes for you to say yes."

Yui ignored him, reaching out to touch the large grey doors- only to hear a quiet snap of fingers behind her.

---

Sitting up, she stifled a yawn.

"We're here, miss."

Disembarking from the small boat, the woman kept her hand in the ferryman's as he assisted her down. She tried to give him coins, but he declined, continuing on his way. Approaching some large, imposing grey doors, she noted they had vast, intricate carvings of people rising out of them. Taking a breath, she pushed them open, stepping into the quiet space.

Awaiting her, marooned on a single island within the lake, the Devil watched as Eve approached.

#ruki mukami #Diabolik lovers #dialovers #rukiyui #yui komori #diahell

90 notes · View notes

ikevamp-shrine · 4 years ago

Note

J V X H for Theo if possible?? Thanks!

I got kinda hot writing the mirror part *fans face as red as an apple* I think I have a problem with thinking about dominate men becoming submissive and weak to their own horniness. Enjoy hun.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This brash art dealer is a very busy man, that much is obvious when some nights he doesn’t get home until the early hours of the morning. Which means whenever the… desirable urges rushes through his veins you are not always there to help him. When he can get his hands and collar around you there is no need to relieve himself, but when your scent and skin are running rampant through his mind with you no where in sight he jerks his cock quite often… and sometimes in less desirable places. What can he say? He’s a horny man.

“Godvedomme!” Growled Theo. Running a hand through his mussed locks, an angry shade a red spread across his cheeks as the door locked behind him.

Damn, Theo thought, I’m weak.

The clicking of his belt buckle sounded too loud in his ears over the laughing, drunken voices right outside the thin slab of wood now pressed against his heaving back. It had been seven hours- just seven damn hours- since he last felt the smooth silk of your flesh under his fingers, and now look at him- shaking and desperate for some form of release.

Tugging apart his pants, Theo began to pant with impatience as he finally freed his pulsing erection timed to match the rapid beating of his heart. The pressure in his cock started to rise immensely as he wrapped calloused fingers around his member. Flicking his wrist roughly making a low groan escape his parted lips Theo began building a rhythm- forward, back, squeeze, forward. Theo’s head lulled against the door, shoulders slumping; his other hand cupping over his mouth to muffle the moans and growls tumbling over his tongue as he imagined it was your warm fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, your sweet scent overwhelming him as you pressed against his trembling body.

“…ha,” Theo moaned as he moved his wrist faster. He was so close- so close. His eyes squinted eyes watering slightly until that overwhelming pressure exploded sending Theo’s spine curving forward, his brows furrowing, and his body twitching. Taking a few fast, deep breaths, the art dealer relaxed finally, fluttering his lashes open to stare at the mess he had created. He almost yelled at the sight. There- in front of him- was his cum sliding down the once clean mirror that seemed to display his every sins.

Panting through his loosely parted fingers the vampire was oblivious to the thick, clear spit dripping from his digits as his eyes rolled closed and his jaw tightened in embarrassment.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Theo is a man that knows what he is doing, and that includes knowing how much it affects you to growl in your ear. The art dealer is not a big moaner- other than allowing a deep, reverberating moan to slither past his lips as you suck the cum out of the head of his cock- but what he is, is animalist in the sheets. Growls that make you quiver, groans that makes you shiver, grunts, and words so filthy they’ll make your stomach drop in ecstasy are his favorites. He knows his voice makes you weak and its infurating.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

This man has a cock to be proud of. Both him and his member are dominant (and by a dominant member I mean his dick overtakes you). Just slightly longer than average, with a girth that would make your momma cry- you can have this bad boy for the small price of rearranged guts. He is rather a straight forward person, and so is his penis.

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpets match the drapes, etc.)

Theo had always thought good hygiene was a necessity, so his tight, light brown curls pared with a reddish tint are always in tip top shape. His hair is not overly long, but he does let the curls grow out just enough that insures they tickle your nose as you take his full length in your throat. He is always clean and smells like leather and whiskey unless he pushes you up against a wall after a workout and fucks you senseless as the chilled sweat down his back starts to warm up again.

SHOTS MATERLISTS

MASTERLIST

ABCs SMUT MASTERLIST

#Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire abcs smut #ikevam theo #ikevamp abcs smut #ikevam abcs smut

187 notes · View notes

zarcake-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Joey

Happy Valentine’s Day! This was posted on my Patreon last year. If you want to read stories before anyone else, go check it out! Only costs $1. Enjoy!

Joey hates how crowded everything gets on Valentine’s Day. The crowds fill up every restaurant, all the parks, movie theaters, and even the ice cream shops. All those lovesick couples leave the air smelling sickeningly sweet, like a strange mixture of chocolate, perfume, and hormones. It makes his nose itch. And if he tries to breathe through his mouth, he can taste it. Makes him gag.

The forced romance is another aspect that makes Joey uncomfortable. Everyone acts extra sweet and mushy gushy during this day as if being romantic the rest of the year is impossible. All those jewelry commercials make him frown and those giant teddy bears are just ridiculous. He does like those fruit baskets though, they’re very delicious.

On the other side of the spectrum are those who vehemently hate the day. They sneer at couples, scoff at plans people make, and try to make everyone else feel terrible. Joey’s discovered that those people are usually alone on the holiday or just had their heartbroken, and seek to make everyone else miserable around them. Joey finds those people to be even more irritating, stinking up places with their bitter words and smell.

Joey is neither of those extremes. He does turn his nose up at the chocolate hearts, the stuffed bears, and those red balloons, but he is a sucker for love. A true romantic at heart, some might even say. Which explains his arrival to The Cupid’s Bow. Braving the crowds, the many couples stinking up the place with their love, and the sweet smell of chocolate, all for his pregnant fiancé who is currently curled up on their couch at home. No doubt playing on her phone while The Witcher is paused on the tv. Or even continuing the show without him.

As Joey steps into the crowded coffee shop, he thinks back to how he met his future wife and soon-to-be mother of his child. It was on Valentine’s Day three years ago. Joey was finally getting over a bad break up. He had stopped missing his ex-girlfriend months before, but that was the first Valentine’s Day he was spending alone in several years. It hurt being alone, especially with everyone around him rubbing their love in his face. He could smell the hormones and desire in the air, it was gross. Made him bitter, but it also hurt Joey.

He remembers there was a storm that day. It had been raining for three days straight, leaving the world dreary and wet. While the storm reflected Joey’s mood, it didn’t seem to bother anyone else in the coffee shop. Instead, it only added to the romantic tension in the shop. He had seen three different couples kiss in the rain like they were in some romantic movie, it was annoying.

As Joey sat in the coffee shop, wallowing in self-pity and hating the day, a woman came in. She was drenched from the storm outside and shivering, but there was a smile on her face. A beanie was on her head, she wore apple red lipstick, and her rain boots were a bright yellow. The boots were a nice contrast to the usual pink and reds in the shop.

Joey didn’t see her walk in. He was too busy looking down at his cup. He didn’t see her when she started to walk in his direction, her drink in hand. He was busy pulling on his jacket and making sure he had his wallet and phone. They might have never met, just completely walked past each other, if it wasn’t for a wet patch on the floor. She slipped, caught herself, but her coffee flew out of her hands and landed on Joey’s chest.

Looking back on that day, Joey is ashamed of how he acted. He snarled and jumped back; a whine of pain bubbled up in the back of his throat. He swallowed the pain down and looked up at the person, ready to tear into them for their clumsiness. He knew he was already starting to shift; he could feel the change under his skin and the dull pain in his jaw. But the growl died in his throat and the snarl fell from his face when he saw her.

She was beautiful. Her beanie was cute, those yellow rain boots, and her eyes. The red on her lips was beautiful, and Joey remembered wondering if they would leave stains on his skin. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Even as she began to frantically wipe his chest with the cheap napkins in her hands and apologizing profusely, Joey was lost under her spell. It took her a moment to realize that her hands were on his firm chest. And that he was wearing a white shirt that was now see-through. Joey thought she was going to pass out.

Aphrose, the shop owner, thought it was hilarious. He ushered the two to a different table and brought out fresh coffee for Joey and the woman. She apologized profusely, even bought Joey a couple of donuts from the shop as an apology. The two ended up talking for hours and even swapped numbers. They spent that first Valentine’s Day together and didn’t even realize. A few months later, Joey and she were dating.

After dating for two and a half years, she ended up pregnant. It wasn’t so much of a surprise, considering they weren’t being very careful. And Joey had popped his knot in her a month before while they were at his family’s cabin. Werewolf sperm is very potent. After finding out she was pregnant, Joey popped the question. And now, eight months later, Joey was happy with his very pregnant fiancé.

“Joey!”

Joey jumps and realizes he’s next in line. Aphrose is smiling behind the counter, a mischievous look in his eyes. While he looks human, Joey knows he’s not. His smell is off, but Joey isn’t sure what Aphrose is.

“Hey, Aphrose.”

“How are you? Where is your darling mate? Oh gosh, has she had the baby yet?”

Joey laughs and shakes his head. “Not yet, only a few more weeks though. She’s at home right now, curled up on the couch, probably watching The Witcher without me.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“She wanted one of those red velvet lattes.”

“Ahh, True Love’s Kiss. What about for you?”

Joey stops and stares at the menu. “Give me the same thing. She thinks it’s cute when our coffee orders match.”

“She will. Anything else?”

“Yeah, throw in four of those vegan berry donuts. She loves those.”

Joey pays and takes a seat while Aphrose is preparing the drinks and bagging the donuts. A buzz from his pocket gets Joey’s attention. He checks his phone and sees it’s from his fiancé.

Mama: Are you still at the shop?

Joey: Yes. Why?

Mama: Can you get me those vegan donuts? The berry ones? Please!

Joey laughs at the message. Before the pregnancy, she had a healthy and normal craving for sweets or anything sugary. But now she wants sweets and sugar so much more. And while caffeine isn’t recommended, she does indulge occasionally. Joey’s sure that Aphrose doesn’t even put coffee in her drinks though. Just sugar and milk.

Joey: Already on it, Mama. Be home soon. Love you.

The reply Joey gets is a string of happy faces and heart emojis. He can’t help the smile on his face.

His name is called, and he sees Aphrose behind the counter, smiling.

“Here you go, Joey.”

“Thanks, Aphrose.”

“So, I take it you and your lovely wife won’t be here this evening to celebrate this love-filled holiday?” Aphrose asked.

Joey laughs and shakes his head. “No, not this year. Unless she says she wants to go out, then we’ll be here. But she’s not a fan of waddling around in public.”

“Ah, I’m sure she has an adorable waddle.”

“She does. She really does.”

“Are you two doing anything fun tonight?”

“We are going to watch Netflix all night, eat dinner, and enjoy each other’s company. Didn’t even get each other gifts, the pup has been taking up all our time and they aren’t even here yet.”

Aphrose laughs and nods. “I understand. When she has the little pup, will you bring them by? Both of them?”

“Of course. Anyways, thanks Aphrose. See you later.”

“Goodbye, Joey! Have a nice night with your lady!”

Oh, Joey plans to. He plans to drink his overly sweet latte with his very pregnant fiancé, watch the show with her, and rub her ankles. He might drive a little faster than necessary, but he won’t admit that. It’s not like he ran a red light or a stop sign. But he definitely did speed through the yellow light though.

When Joey enters his house, it smells delicious and his stomach rumbles. She had thrown a chunk of meat in the slow cooker earlier this morning. Joey found her in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and cutting the potatoes, with a cup of hot chocolate beside her. She was dressed in his shirt and a pair of sleep shorts; her face was bare of any makeup and her hair tied up. She smiled when she saw him. While she looked tired, with the bags under her eyes, she looked genuinely happy.

Beneath the smell of food, Joey can smell her. Her usual soft vanilla and lavender smell has changed over the last few months. It’s grown spicier, like cinnamon and cloves. His smell is mixed in, but hers is so much stronger.

“Baby? I’m home.”

He hears a faint shout of excitement from the living room. When he enters the living room, she is laying on the couch, propped up against the armrest. The tv is still paused, Geralt of Rivia is making the same ugly face as when Joey left. The remote is still on the coffee table, which explains why she probably didn’t continue watching without him.

She smiles and makes grabby hands at Joey. “My big bad wolf.”

Joey snorts as he sets everything on the table. “I am not big or bad, but I am a wolf. So, you are partially correct.”

Joey reaches out and helps her sit up. Only when she’s sitting comfortably does Joey hand her one of the lattes and the bag of donuts. He takes his seat next to her and smiles when she sips the still hot drink.

“I know, but I like to call you that. Besides, your werewolf form is big. And you look like a bad boy.”

“And how do I look like a bad boy?”

“With your jacket and those boots you wear. And that scowl! I love it, but it does add to the whole dark and mysterious look you got going on. Not to mention your eyes. They’re beautiful, but clearly not human. Also, you assess everyone you meet, and it can unnerve people.”

Joey rolls his eyes as he takes a drink of the latter. It’s sweet, but not overly. He wonders if this is what red velvet is supposed to taste like.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.”

“It is not. I don’t assess people. And I don’t scowl.”

She gives him a look. “You do.”

“Ok, well, that’s just my face. Do you not like it?”

She smiles and cups his cheek. Her hands are warm and soft; they remind Joey of home. “I didn’t say that. I like your face, very much actually. It’s very handsome. And I hope our baby has your face.”

“I hope they have your eyes.”

She smiles and pulls her hand away. She settles against the couch and sighs. With the coffee in her hand and the bag of donuts resting on her stomach, she’s adorable.

“Enough of this talk. I want to finish this show with my white wolf before the baby gets here,” she said.

Joey snorts at her joke. He grabs the remote and gets comfortable beside her, careful not to jostle her too much. His arm settles on the back of the couch and she leans in against his side as much as she can. He hits play and the show continues.

Joey doesn’t find the show that interesting, he’s certain the books are better, but he won’t complain. She, however, loves it. She’s absorbed in the show, munching on her donuts and sipping her drink. She’s happy, and so is he.

The way some people celebrate this holiday bothers Joey. All the romance that’s shoved in everyone’s faces, it disgusts him. Or the people who feel the need to shit on everyone else’s romantic plans. They all bother him. But this, nestled against the couch with his pregnant fiancé, watching Henry Cavill scowl at everyone, and sipping coffee, is perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mama wolf,” Joey said.

She looks up at him and smiles. “Happy Valentine’s Day, papa wolf.”

#exophilia #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster x human #sfw #zarcake writes

43 notes · View notes

long-after-love · 3 years ago

Text

ON GEORGE – The youngest Beatle

(Originally written my Vietnamese for the local community, but I modified it a bit to post it here, since I love this essay so much... sorry for the self-indulgence)

First and foremost, I love the Beatles for their music. But there are also many other groups that I like because of their music, yet none ever had a permanent place in my heart like The Beatles does. I suppose I'm not really a music lover at heart, I don't care much about tastes, accolades, criticisms, records, and I'm not the type of person trying to express my personality through my taste in films, books or bands. If my love for Beatles could be divided into ten parts, three would be for the music, and seven would be for their history and anecdotes.

Ages ago, well, perhaps months ago, I received an anon ask about George that I couldn’t even recall at the moment. Must be something about George being unintellectual and a bit unaware of things. But I don’t think I was being overly critical of George – this is a John and Paul blog, but George was my first crush and when you think about your first crush, how you grew out of it and slowly learned how to fall in love again – you feel a bit embarrassing, but it is still something you hold dear, you just put it in a realistic light.

Now I think of George as the youngest, the cutes Beatle, though normally the moniker Cute Beatle belongs to Paul, I guess people were overly impressed with his doe eyes and rat bunny teeth. I couldn’t disagree with George’s _“Quiet One” _image more, George is anything but a supposedly spiritual, enlightened person. Recently, with the celebration of All Things Must Pass’s 50th anniversary, people have even more reasons to buy that image. But is that really the case?

My perception of George started to change when I came across an interview with John and Yoko in 1971 with Peter McCabe. I think most of you are familiar with this:

MCCABE: Let’s talk a bit about George. He’s perhaps the most enigmatic Beatle. Are you saying George is more conventional than he makes himself out to be?

JOHN: There’s no telling George. He always has a point of view about that wide, you know. [John places his hands a few inches apart.] You can’t tell him anything.

YOKO: George is sophisticated, fashionwise…

JOHN: He’s very trendy, and he has the right clothes, and all of that…

YOKO: But he’s not sophisticated, intellectually.

JOHN: No. He’s very narrow-minded and he doesn’t really have a broader view. Paul is far more aware than George. One time in the Apple office in Wigmore Street, I said something to George, and he said, “I’m as intelligent as you, you know.” This must have been resentment, but he could have left anytime if I was giving him a hard time.

MCCABE: What did you say?

JOHN: I didn’t answer. Of course, he’s got an inferiority complex working with Paul and me.

YOKO: In the case of Paul, it’s not that he’s not sophisticated. I’m sure that he’s intellectually sophisticated as well. It’s just that he’s aware, and yet he doesn’t want to know.

JOHN: Whereas George doesn’t really know what’s happening, you know.

— John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe & Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

For those who firmly believed in George's “Quiet One” image (where quietness is meant to show enlightened reticence), the above interview can make their blood boil, but in fact, if you read the Beatles biographies carefully, you have to realize that John and Yoko’s observance, albeit being absurdly blunt and mean-spirited, was true. George was a spiritual person from his late twenties to his death, but he was never enlightened type, the sage-like type. I always appreciate the innocent part of his nature more, even though he, at times, acted unseemly. There are many funny and endearing anecdotes surrounding George that prove it, told by family and close friends of the Beatles since the band was unknown. Here I only pointed out three of them.

The first story is the look on George's face. On the stage, George stood silently a bit behind John and Paul, rarely smiled. Since the Cavern days, girls had asked Louise Harrison, George's mother, why George wouldn't laugh. What Mrs. Louise revealed turned out to be nothing complicated: George was afraid of making mistakes (Davies, 2009). When people are concentrating, their facial expressions will naturally become serious. And thus, just as naturally, the unknowing seriousness gave George some mysterious air that subtly differed him from the fierce John and the bouncy Paul.

Second, I would like to quote from John and Cyn, as seen on some earlier post:

“When George was a kid, he used to follow me and my first girlfriend Cynthia. We would come out of the art school together and he’d be hovering around.Cyn and I would be going to a coffee shop or a movie and George would follow us down the street two hundred yards behind. Cyn would say, ‘Who is that guy? What does he want?’ And I’d say, 'He just wants to hang out. Should we take him with us?’ She’d say, 'Oh, OK, let’s take him to the bloody movies.’ So we’d allow him to come to the movies with us. That’s the sort of relationship it was.”

- John Lennon

“Hi John, Hi Cyn.’ He would hurriedly catch us up and then it would be, 'Where are you two off to? Can I come?’ Neither of us would have the heart to tell this thin gangly kid in school uniform to push off. Poor George! He hand’t really got to the stage of serious girlfriends yet and was totally unaware of what it was all about, Alfie! So we would spend the lost afternoon as a jolly threesome, wondering what on earth we were going to do with ourselves.”

- Cynthia Powell

In addition, Cynthia also told this story in her book, John (2005):

“It was appendicitis and I was stuck in hospital for two weeks. After a couple of days John came to visit me, dragging George with him. I had been so desperate to see him, and was so frustrated when I saw George, that I burst into tears. Shocked, John told George to hop it and held my hand for an hour to mollify me. After a while my mum arrived, and later took John and George back to our house for tea.”

Please note this little detail: John went to the hospital to see his sick girlfriend, but apparently George insisted to tag along. When John saw Cyn crying, he asked George to leave, George seemed to hang outside, waiting for John to finish his visit. This is very telling: how desperate George wanted to hang out with John then! With the part where Cynthia's mother invited both John and George home for tea, Mrs. Powell probably had been familiar with this little boy who followed John and Cyn all the time.

I would like to give another example with Astrid Kirchherr’s memory of George. It was 1960 – Astrid and Stuart Sutcliffe were in love, but this still didn't stop the naive little George just seventeen years old then, and Astrid was certainly moved by his sweetness, quoted from The Beatles (2009) by Hunter Davies:

“I got on like a house on fire with George. He'd never met anyone like me before and he showed it, so openly and sweetly. After all, he was only 17. There was me, the sort of intelligent girl he'd never come across before, with my own car, working as a photographer, and wearing leather jackets. It was natural he would be very interested in me. I never fancied him or anything like that. It wasn't that sort of thing. I was five years older, so it didn't matter being open. We got on great.”

You may argue: but it was just baby George! Oh, I couldn’t agree with that, my good friend. I think George’s attitude was always like that – he was the youngest child of his parents and the youngest boy of Beatles – he was immature, not very worldly and made questionable choices, especially in his effort to butter up John by recording HDYS: it wasn’t fruitful as it was self-defeating: John, all in all, just saw him as the kid that tagged along.

After the Beatles’ break up, George always seemed most annoyed with the Beatles, most frustrated about the past. But it seems that George only overreacted because he was tired and powerless against the morbid curiosity of the press and fans for decades. I think if George hated the Beatles or hated Paul as he made himself to be, then George would not have held Paul’s hand reminiscing about the past, nor chosen to die at Paul's house (I know Paul lent him the house, but George wasn’t too broke to rent a house near the treatment facility). Thus, with such an attitude, I couldn’t take him seriously as a spiritual person, but hell, wasn’t he a lovely man with all the flaws?

#george harrison #the beatles #john lennon #my take.txt

5 notes · View notes

peace-coast-island · 3 years ago

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Ice cream gyroids and apple desserts

The Apple Blossom Forest is full of gyroids - ice cream gyroids, to be exact. How fitting! I've been meaning to visit the forest for a while so after hearing about the gyroids that have been popping up there, it was the perfect opportunity for an event. And to make it even better, we have some friends visiting, a group, which adds to the fun.

Somehow, I managed to plan something with Marlo, Jean, Nedra, Cheyenne, Artemis, and Don. Not an easy feat since Nedra and Jean are accomplished actresses who are super busy. Marlo and Cheyenne are actresses too, but not quite in the same league (yet) as the other two, though they've been making strides recently. As for Don and Artemis, they've got their own thing, though they're always there to support/act as a voice of reason for Marlo and Cheyenne respectively.

It's been pretty chill for the most part, just picking apples and gyroids and hanging out. Once Marlo got over the initial starstruck stage, she hit it off pretty well with Jean and Nedra. Cheyenne hasn't seen Marlo in a long while so it was nice that they finally get to catch up. They used to be close growing up, having inspired each other to go for their dreams. Even after life kept them busy they still keep in touch often. And now that their acting careers are taking a turn for the better, there's more opportunities for them to get together.

Fingers crossed for Cheyenne and Marlo to appear together one day! I have a feeling that day's gonna come soon so that's something to look forward to.

The forest's full of unusual varieties of apples. Some I've seen scattered in areas outside the camp, like the starburst apple and cinnaswirl. There's also a bunch that are only grown there, like honeycomb blossom and fuchsia sprout. It's kinda overwhelming how many different apple varieties are out there. They even have rare heirloom apples, which are hard to get so if you're looking for a specific type, you'd better grab 'em while you can.

Honeycomb blossom is good for baking desserts like pie and cake. I think it's kinda like a honeycrisp apple - my go-to for baking - with a bit more flavor. We got quite a bit of those as they are really good for baking - I think this would be my new go-to if they were more widely available.

Fuchsia sprout's unusual as the skin's like a purple red. It's a sour variety that's also good for baking. I'm not a fan of sour apples but this I can tolerate because it's not overly tart. Also, I can imagine this would taste good with savory dishes like in a sandwich or salad so we're gonna attempt to make spicy chicken empanadas with them.

Cinnaswirls have a bit of a cinnamon flavor, hence the name. They also have a swirly design, kinda like a cinnamon roll. I think the ones from the orchard are sweeter than the ones I found in the wild. The inside even looks like it has swirls of cinnamon, which is cool. Cheyenne baked them with cinnamon buns and they take the dessert to another level.

There's also windbloom, which is crisp and airy, halo, a dense and really sweet kind, and fireburst, a fiery red apple with a pink interior and sharp flavor. All of them have interesting flavors and textures, so that's why we picked those. Halo apples are much too sweet to eat by itself and is not ideal for baking as it's too dense. At least we know it's good for cooking so we'll need to find a recipe for it. Windbloom is kinda the opposite - kinda bland and the texture is so light that it feels weird to me. I'm not exactly sure what to do with them, but knowing Cheyenne, she'll find a way. Fireburst also has a strong flavor that can't be eaten alone, the kind that should be used sparingly just to add enough of a kick. According to a recipe we found, that with honeycomb blossom can make a good pie.

For the gyroids, we have a bunch of ice cream themed stuff like furniture and decor. And of course, we have fresh, homemade ice cream, courtesy of Milkcloud Farm nearby. I've heard good things about the place so I should drop by there someday. It's not too far from the camp and who knows, maybe we can plan an event there?

Cheyenne and Marlo have been exchanging recipes, so that's how the whole baking thing got tied to the gyroid event. With some free time on their hands, they wanted to bake up a storm. Cheyenne often jokes that she needs to bake something at least once a week or else she'll go stir crazy. For her, baking - and cooking as well - is fun and therapeutic. Marlo's a good baker too, though she doesn't consider herself on the same level as Cheyenne, especially when it comes to complex recipes.

While a recipe involving a lot of prep work might be a turn off for many (me included, admittingly), Cheyenne's usually up for the challenge. She has a way of breaking up tasks in a way that it no longer seems as daunting. That's why she's my go-to person when I want to tackle a recipe that's beyond my scope.

Nedra and Jean have been busy as usual - they've both got shows coming up that will be touring. Jean also has a movie coming up, which is directed by Adrie, another fellow entourage member. It's been a couple years since I've hung out with her and from what I'm hearing, she's doing pretty well.

Today we mostly made desserts so to balance things out, we're making savory dishes tomorrow. Nedra and Cheyenne have saved some recipes for us to try out. Can't wait to see how they turn out!

Out of all of us, I think Artemis got the most gyroids - mostly because he's part cat so he can easily get into the trees. As for the apples he attempted to get, a good number of them ended up bruised, especially the softer ones. Though to be fair, I think those apples were already not the best anyway if a short fall can mess them up.

Marlo and Don are moving forward with wedding plans - no confirmed date yet other than sometime next year, likely late summer/early fall. They've got a venue in mind and Marlo's starting to look for a dress. She also asked Cheyenne to be a bridesmaid and of course, she accepted. Also, my mom will be helping Marlo with the wedding dress as well as the others so she'll be busy in the upcoming months.

I can't wait for the wedding - I think theirs is one of the most anticipated in our friend group! After all, they've been together for such a long time that it no longer became a matter of "if" but "when". Not that being married will make things different or more "official", more like it's nice to see two people who really love and care for each other make their dreams come true.

Personally, I think more couples should be more like Marlo and Don. Their relationship isn't perfect by any means - there is no such thing if I'm being honest - but they know how to communicate with each other and that's super important. They know when to compromise and when to put their foot down. To support one another in their ambitions and be willing to call them out if they step out of line. To be there when they need help and be able to establish boundaries without feeling guilty. And to continue to grow and learn, improve themselves and the others around them.

It was nice chilling at the orchard, trying out the apples and ice cream. Daisy Jane and Cheyenne got to talking about a collaboration where they design cute charms and clay pins. Daisy Jane has come so far as an artist - Happy Floral Mail has grown by leaps and bounds since its launch! I can't wait to see what she and Cheyenne come up with as their art styles compliment each other super well.

Nedra's hoping to bring Shannon and Victoria to the camp one day. They're her goddaughters who she took in after their parents - two close friends - passed away years ago. I remember seeing the girls running around campus during the entourage days - it's hard to believe that they're almost teens now. Not surprisingly, they're into acting and have been busy with drama club at school. Nedra says Shannon takes after her dad while Victoria takes after her mom.

As for the gyroids, we put off crafting to focus on apples. Since we collected more apples than gyroids - save for Artemis - I don't think we have enough gyroids to craft most of the things. We did kinda have a late start so there weren't as much gyroids out in the wild as usual. So it's back to the forest tomorrow for more apples and gyroids!

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

3 notes · View notes

waywardnerd67 · 4 years ago

Text

Starving Affection

Summary: It had been five years since (Y/N) had any physical contact with another person. When she starts talking with a man online who reads her fanfics, a battle of her mind and body begins. When the time comes to meet him, she finds that there are still decent human beings in the world. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Sami (OFC), Plus Size!Reader Pairing: Jensen x Plus Size!Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Smut/Body Image Distortion Word Count: 9256 A/N: Again, me working through my feels. Thank you for allowing me to do so.

My chest tightened. Jaw clenched until my teeth hurt. My body rigid and frozen as panic flowed through my veins. The overly friendly, new teacher had her arms outstretched towards me. If I had been a normal person, I would gladly hold my arms out as well embracing her kindness and affection.

I was not normal.

“Hey Katy!” My partner teacher and best friend, Sami, headed her off by stepping in front of me and taking the hit of affection.

There was a special place in Heaven for Sami and if not, I would fight God themselves to make it so. I could see Sami whispering to Katy and a nod of acknowledgement told me I would not have to worry about her advancements again.

“Sorry (Y/N), I didn’t know you weren’t a hugger. How about a high five?” Her sweet gesture had my trembling hand stretching out to her as she quickly slapped it with her own.

Only Sami could see my flinch from the physical touch of someone. Everyone else summed it up to my quirky personality and weird aversion to being touched. Thankfully our English department meeting was over and I could escape to the safe haven of my car. Sami was close behind me waving goodbye to everyone.

I bumped my shoulder to hers as she was the only one I had no problem with minor touching, “Thank you for taking that hug for me.”

She laughed, “You’re lucky I’m a friendly and huggy person. Hey, I meant to ask you before school today, but how is counseling going?”

I cringed, averting my gaze from her, “It’s… going fine.”

She stopped me with a tap on my shoulder, “The truth, please.”

I sighed as my shoulders slumped in defeat, “I stopped going,” I saw the incoming assault in her narrowing sky colored eyes.

“(Y/N)! You were making such good progress with this counselor. I was even able to give you a one arm hug.” The disappointment in her voice weighed my shoulders down even more.

I leaned against my car pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie, “I know, I know. She had me go to one of her support groups and everyone had to hug someone. I… I just couldn’t. I tried three or four times going to the group and I failed every time.”

My eyes fell to the ground, disgust filling my mind, “Yes, you really are as pathetic as you’re sounding.” My inner voice snarked.

I heard Sami sigh, “It’s okay. We can work through it together. We can keep doing everything you liked from her and work at your pace.”

Looking up, I forced my lips into a small smile to appease my only real life friend, “That sounds good. Thanks Sami for putting up with me.”

I made my way home to a small ranch style home that was off the beaten path. My grandparents had left it to me knowing I would love the seclusion of it. It was my Fortress of Solitude. The only living thing, other than Sami, to be able to snuggle with me was Charlie the cat. The copper Main Coon was sitting by the door awaiting my arrival.

My evenings were always the same. Check in with my mom for an hour on the phone. Make or order dinner, which tonight was ordering pizza for the leftovers tomorrow. Turning on my favorite TV show, Supernatural, on Netflix and working on one of my millions of fanfics.

“Yes, stay in complete denial by hiding in your fantasy worlds and falling in love with fictional characters. Loser.”

I pushed my inner thoughts to the very back of my mind and focused on my current series I was writing. Pulling up Tumblr, I looked in my notifications seeing someone binge reading my masterlist. My heart always swelled with joy whenever someone took the time to read my writings. This person was also leaving feedback as well.

“ChevyMan67: I love this version of Dean! You truly have captured his personality and sarcasm.”

“ChevyMan67: I can’t get enough of this series! Please tell me there is more to come. I need to know if Dean finally falls in love and gets his apple pie life.”

I read through every comment and looked at every GIF the reader posted. I hit follow on his blog then took a few screenshots from my activity page, pulling up a blank post adding the pictures.

“Thank you to @ChevyMan67 for binging my stories! Your feedback means everything to me!”

As soon as I posted it there was a notification of a reblog from him. He posted a GIF of Dean screaming with #Fangirling flashing underneath. My cheeks ached from the unusual tension of a genuine smile spreading across my face.

Online I could be anyone I wanted. I would virtual hug and blow kisses at my friends. I was able to be more like the woman I was. Social, happy, carefree, open to others. I could be the woman I desperately wanted to be but my mind would not allow.

“Stay guarded. Remember what happened when you trusted him? Trusted his family? Never again. You promised never again.”

My indeed guard held the line at the gate of my mind. She stood in full armor and shield ready to throw off anyone that even attempted to break through to the part of me that desired to be a whole person again. I shook my head with a firm nod and reaffirmed my promise to myself to never let anyone that close to me again.

As I was closing down her computer for the evening, a ding caught my attention as a message came from Tumblr. Opening the window, I saw a DM from my newest follower.

“Hey there, I just wanted to say thank you for following me. Apparently I’m a rarity on here for being male and a fan of Supernatural. I truly love all your writings and can’t wait to read more. Hopefully, we can get to know each other better and become friends. Anyway, I’ll leave you alone. Message me any time. Goodnight.”

I re-read the message several times before closing my computer. Sure I had people message me for small talk and a few close friends I had on there. This felt different. Something deep within me sparked and I did not know how to react. There was only one person I knew I could go to and her reaction was more frightening than the thought of responding to ChevyMan67. That night was the first of many restless nights for me.

A week later, I finally sat down and responded to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I’m… well, I’m not used to talking to guys here. I think it’s great that you’re on here and reading, BTW. I’m working on a few pieces right now, maybe you could beta for me if you have time. I hope we can be friends as well. Have a good weekend!”

I was nearly hyperventilating when I hit enter sending the message. I tried to work on my newest one shot story and ignore my anxious heart awaiting for the ding. It was not until I was in bed watching my favorite episode of Supernatural that my phone chimed.

“Tumblr: Message from ChevyMan67”

My finger hovered for a moment before opening the app. The message opened and I let out a air I had been holding in my chest.

“No worries. Everyone is busy and has their “real life” to attend too. I work odd hours and days all the time so I get it. I would LOVE to beta for you!!!! Reading your work before it’s posted online? HELL YEAH! I feel honored you asked and I’m fanboying hard right now. Crap… that sounded… I mean. Sorry lol. You can send your fics to [email protected]. Looking forward to hearing from you again.”

Over the next six months, Ross and I talked throughout our days getting to know one another. Three month into Tumblr messenger and dumb updates, he gave me his cell number to text one another. At times, I would have to catch myself from laughing while my students took a test. Everyone around me started to notice the small changes in me. Smiling more, talking more and one student commented on me wearing bright colors.

“You look good in yellow Miss (Y/L/N).”

However it was Sami who demanded to know all about the changes going on with me. We sat at our favorite restaurant, the first round of drinks being set in front of us. After the waiter took our order, Sami began her interrogation.

“Tell. Me. Everything. You’ve been keeping me at bay and I’ve respected your space, but you have seemingly blossomed in the last few months. Spill.”

I bit my lower lip as my phone sounded with an all to familiar chime. I went to grab my phone when Sami placed her hand over it, “Me first. Tumblr second.”

“It’s not Tumblr. Let me reply to him and then I will tell you everything.” I dared to look up to see my best friend’s face frozen in shock.

Her eyes wide and mouth gaping, “Him?!”

I nodded reading Ross’s message, “Hey I know you’re out with Sami and going to tell her about little ole me. I just wanted to make sure you were still thinking about what I asked last night. Can’t wait to hear from you soon. Not now though, have fun with Sami.”

I smiled, locking my phone and putting it in my purse looking back to my ridiculously happy friend, “His name is Ross.”

There was a loud, attention grabbing squeal from her as I shushed her, “Leave out no details…” she rested her perfect chin on her folded hands.

I told her all about Ross and how we began talking. I told her everything I knew about him and what he knew about me. Finally, as our food came out and drinks were refilled, I told her about what he had dropped on me the previous night.

“He asked me to meet him at the Supernatural Convention in Dallas next month. He already has the passes paid for and a few photo ops that we could share.” My heart raced at the thought of meeting Ross and meeting my favorite celebrities all at the same time.

Sami’s smile faded slightly, “Does he know about your struggles with being touched?”

I nodded, “It was one of the first personal things I told him. He’s still talking to me so I took that as a frightening good sign.”

“What are you feeling?” her point blank question shook me for a moment.

My fingers drummed against the table, “I’m nervous, scared, anxious…” I paused for a moment before looking up at her with a smile.

“I’m also excited, hopeful and curious.”

Sami held out her hands to me, palms up and I hesitantly placed my hands in hers. It was something we had been working on for the last couple of months. This was the first time I allowed her to squeeze my hands.

“You really like him.” She whispered smiling like a fool.

I felt my own smile mirroring hers, “Yes I do and that scares me shitless.”

The rest of the evening felt like the old days before my life fell apart. When I got home, I decided to test my luck. Pulling up Ross’s number, my thumb hovered over it until I smashed it hearing it ringing.

“Well hello, this is a surprise.” His velvety smooth voice sent shivers down my body, “Take a deep breath and know it’s okay if you hang up to just text me.”

“N-No, I’ll be okay.” I stammered as he let out a low chuckle.

I could hear him moving away from other voices around him, “I interrupted something…” Guilt and shame weighing my shoulders down.

“Not at all. They can wait, you calling me is an important moment. Not everyday, I get to speak to my favorite writer on the phone.” His compliments calmed my queasy stomach, “Could I be so hopeful that this phone call is working up to a good answer?”

I took a deep breath in and let out slowly, “Yes.” The word seems foregin to her as it left my lips.

“Yes I can be hopeful or yes to my question?” His jovial banter eased the tension in my shoulders.

“Yes.” I tried to sound a little more confident, my heart beating against my chest.

There was a moment of silence before loud cheering and yelling came through her speaker. His excitement was silenced by my own unfamiliar laughter. Suddenly I was hyper aware that he was no longer making any noises. Panic and fear swelling inside me.

A soft sigh came from him, “You have a beautiful laugh. I can’t wait to hear it again.”

My cheeks burned, “Thank you.”

Ross told me he would send all the details for our trip and that I was not to worry about money of any kind. Mentally, I began planning out how to save as much money as I could in the next four weeks. Thankfully, my savings was built up enough to take a small hit and not dip into her emergency fund. Over the next several weeks, I began to prepare for my first convention, first time meeting an online friend, first time traveling by myself, first time facing the unknown in five years.

The morning of my travel day, I went over to Sami’s house with Charlie. I was surprised to see her sister sitting there. She waved to me before taking Charlie’s crate.

“What’s going on?” I looked around seeing Sami’s suitcase packed by the door.

She smiled, “Your friend Ross, reached out to me.”

The color from my face drained for a moment, “H-He did… How?”

“He found me on your Instagram page. DM me asking me to join you on your trip. Stating and I quote, ‘I know you being there with (Y/N) will make her more comfortable. I want this weekend to go as comfortably as possible for her. I know it’s a big step and I want her to be taken care of.’”

She smiled softly as my vision blurred from tears slipping down my face, “Oh… wow.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing (Y/N/N). If you were ever going to work on overcoming your touch aversion this would be the man to do it for.” Sami turned around to help her sister, leaving me to my own thoughts.

“Absolutely not! There is no way he is getting through my defenses. I have held strong for five years. Your heart and mind are safe within my holds.”

“Do you really think he’s going to want to touch you? Look at yourself. Lumpy. Chunky. Squishy. Dull (Y/C/H) hair. Boring (Y/C/E) eyes. Not even a decent pair of boobs or ass. You’re nothing special. Always remember that you’re nothing special.”

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) stop it.” Sami’s voice rang clear bringing me back to the present.

I nodded slowly, “Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Freaked out. We will work through it. Sara is gonna drive us to the airport and we have an hour to chat. Okay?”

It was in the moment that I noticed my best friend had absentmindedly placed her hand on my shoulder and I did not flinch. My eyes looked to her hand and back to her, “You’re touching my shoulder.”

“Crap, I’m so sor…” she started to say but my bright smile stopped her, “What?”

I placed my hand on top of hers, “I didn’t flinch or move or even notice you did it.”

Now her smile was matching mine and we had a moment of pure excitement jumping around each other. True to her word, we spent the hour on the plane doing some meditative exercises. I thanked every high power who would listen for my best friend getting her psychology degree.

There was a man waiting with our names on a piece of paper. He took our bags and drove us to a hotel near where the convention was being held. Sami checked us in since there were so many people inside and my anxiety started to flare up.

Breathe in counting to six. Breathe out counting to six.

I repeated my breathing exercise until Sami returned her brow furrowed, “What is it?”

“I don’t know who Ross knows, but he must be connected in some way. We have a suite on the fourteenth floor.”

My jaw dropped slightly before I stood up bracing myself for the next hurdle of getting through the elevator ride. Luckily, there were only two other girls in the car and I could safely keep my distance from them.

“I heard that Jensen is staying at this hotel.” One mentioned as the other rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right. This is Dallas, I’m sure he’s probably staying with his family or something.”

The girls exit on the eighth floor and before the doors could close Sami and I were chuckling to ourselves. The chances of Jensen Ackles staying at this hotel would be astronomical. The car dinged for the top floor and opened to a small hallway. When we opened the door to our suite neither of us spoke.

Sami walked throughout the entire room before I could even move from the entryway, “This room is amazing! Check out the view we have (Y/N).”

“Hold on. Having a moment.” I breathed as Sami came to my side and I held my hand out, “I’m fine. Just need a moment to make sure this is real and not a dream.”

I watched as she walked over to the coffee table where there was a gift basket and she held up a small notecard, “Oh it’s real.”

“(Y/N) and Sami, I hope you love your room. Enjoy your night and order anything you want. The front desk knows it’s all on my tab. I’m hoping you both will join me for dinner tomorrow night after registration. Sadly, my job won’t let me leave before then. I look forward to meeting you both. -R PS: I highly recommend the spa and they have a large private jacuzzi just for you, (Y/N).”

Sami sighed, “I really hope he has a single brother, cousin, friend that is like him for me.”

I rolled my eyes walking over to the large windows looking out. Flashes of the last time I was in Dallas popping into my mind. I shivered as the one voice I hated yelled loudly in my ears. My hands covered them and I felt Sami tap my shoulder twice. For the first time, in several years, I reached out to her and gripped her arms.

“(Y/N) remember why we’re here. Remember talking with Ross on the phone. The tone of Ross’s voice. His laughter.” Her calm tone eased me out of the wretched memory.

She guided me over to the couch and went to get me a glass of water. I sipped it slowly before squeezing her hand, “Thank you.”

“You know, I can get used to you reaching out to me. Feels like the (Y/N) I knew coming back.” Sami squeezed my hand back before I let slip from her grasp.

She was right, the woman I once was before my ex was fighting her way to get out again. Still, my guard was up standing fortified at the gate.

That evening was a girls’ night of epic proportions. They went to the spa where (Y/N) sat in her private jacuzzi while Sami received the best massage of her life. Afterwards, we ordered our dinner from room service making moderate choices since neither of us were paying. When our food came there was a special dessert also with another note.

“A little birdy told me that your favorite dessert was French Silk pie. I wanted you to have a slice and some New York Style cheesecake for Sami. Have a wonderful night.”

Sami whistled, “Man, he has it bad for you.”

“Shut up.” I muttered lifting the dome to see a delicious slice of pie.

As they ate and talked, Sami took my phone taking pictures of them enjoying a very Sam and Dean style dinner. Sami having a Chef’s salad with honey mustard dressing. I took a picture of my dinner sending it to Ross with a text saying thank you.

“Dean would be proud! That bacon cheeseburger looks good. Enjoy!”

I smiled the entire time I ate my burger. Finishing out meals, Sami hooked up her laptop putting on Supernatural. I decided to try and work on some stories when a terrifying thought crossed my mind. I looked up to the screen as Dean began to talk. I closed my eyes listening carefully to his voice. The low tone and smoothness of it. It was the way he said the word writer that had my eyes snapping open and a gasp escaping my lips.

“What? What is it?” Sami sat up concerning filling her eyes.

Like pieces to a puzzle everything snapped into place. All the small details that would go unnoticed by someone who would never expect it. Sami tapped my shoulder and I turned to her with wide eyes.

“Ross… that’s Jensen’s middle name.” I mumbled reaching for my phone.

Sami stood up pausing the episode, “Okay… what are you getting at.”

“Listen.” I played for her the voicemail he had left a few days earlier, “Now play the episode.”

Sami’s eyes connected to her, “No way.”

“Ross is Jensen Ackles.”

That night my dreams were filled with my ex yelling at me. Fat shaming me. Calling me a loser. Calling me useless for not being able to bear children. His looming form made me coward into a ball on the floor. I woke up several times during the night, the final time close to six in the morning. Sami was peacefully sleeping on her side of the bed.

I picked up my phone going into the living area and dialing the all too familiar number. On the third ring she was going to hang up, but then his groggy voice pierced my ears.

“(Y/N), is everything alright?” All I could hear was Dean, which meant that it was truly Jensen on the other side.

“You tell me, Jensen.” I heard him sit up as I began to pace near the window.

A long sigh came from him, “I knew you would figure it out before meeting me.”

I scoffed, “Is this some kind of celebrity joke or prank? Pretend to be someone’s friend and embarrass them when they meet you.”

My guard was shaking her head muttering, “Told you so…”

“No, (Y/N) it’s nothing like that. Misha had read some of your stories and suggested I should read them. At first, I thought it would be weird because I’ve never read fanfiction before, but your writing… it drew me in.” His words came out all in one breath.

I froze, “M-Misha read my stories? Oh god…” My body burned from embarrassment.

“Honestly, there’s not a person on our crew that hasn’t read at least one of your stories. You’re talented and the way you write for the boys is amazing. Our own writer’s are impressed with your talent.”

I groaned slumping down to the floor, “This was all a mistake.” The last thing I heard before ending the call was rustling around as if Jensen was moving from his bed.

My phone slipped from my hand as tears streamed down my face. I closed my eyes allowing my inner voices to consume me. Dragging me down into the darkness.

“You fool! Here I stood guarding you from this and still you allowed someone in. You deserve what is coming to you!”

“You useless piece of nothing! You’re the biggest joke this world ever created. Fat, ugly, even your body can’t do the one basic thing god made it to do. You’re worthless. Sucking up air that could be used on someone contributing to the world. No matter what anyone says you will always be the biggest failure in this world. You. Are. Nothing.”

I felt someone tapping on my shoulder and I tightened myself into a ball, “Go away Sami.”

The tapping continued and I reached out grasping an unfamiliar hand. My eyes snapped open and were met with concerning, piercing olive eyes. The eyes I stared at for hours on my TV. The eyes I wrote about in hundreds of thousands of words online.

As soon as my eyes opened he withdrew his hand and my heart sank further into darkness, “I told you. He will never want to touch your disgusting body.” The snide voice of my inner self whispered.

“(Y/N), please hear me out. Please for five minutes just listen to my side.” He sat across from me leaving a foot of distance between us.

I nodded looking up as Sami gently touched his shoulder, “I will be just outside if you need me.”

He waited for the door to close to start talking. His large hands rubbing against his cotton covered thighs.

“I started reading your masterlist on Tumblr and couldn’t get enough of your stories. I didn’t know exactly how to work Tumblr so Misha showed me how. I noticed you don’t get a lot of notes and I wanted everyone to notice you. I started sharing your work with everyone after sending you that message.”

He paused for a moment as I fidget with the hem of my shirt, “Why did you message me?”

His smile was more radiant in person, “It’s just as I said. I loved your work and I wanted to be friends. However, the more I got to know you… the more I wanted to meet you in person. I knew that would be problematic.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I scoffed looking down to my hands.

He inhaled a deep breath, “You connect with Dean Winchester the same way I do. To find someone like that is a once in a lifetime chance. I want someone who I can gush over Dean with because soon I won’t be hanging out with him as much and he’s the best imaginary friend I’ve ever had.”

Seeing Jensen open himself up to me was creating a battle of mind and body within me. He was just as nervous as I was to open up to someone else. Suddenly, I did not feel so alone in my isolation. My hand trembled as I reached over placing it atop of his.

“Dean Winchester saved my life and I don’t mean that figuratively. I was on the verge of leaping into darkness when I found him getting Sammy to find their dad. I found the strength to carry on because I knew that was what Dean would do. I found that being broken wasn’t a bad thing but something that could drive you to keep working. Dean helped me to feel again when I had become numb to the world around me.”

His eyes shined as I spoke trying to hold back his own tears, “I’m glad he could be there for you when you needed him the most.”

“Then you came into my life when I least expected it.” I whispered as I squeezed his hand.

My mind was screaming at me to get as far away from him as I possibly could. To call out to Sami to make him leave and move out of the state disappearing from the world. However, my body was urging me to jump into his arms. To open myself up to him as he had done with me. I felt like a spring coil ready to snap. My mind was holding my body back waiting for my consciousness to make a decision.

And she did.

I launched myself into his arms startling him as we crashed to the floor. His arms instinctively wrapped around me as mine encircled his neck. The door flew open as Sami came rushing in as Jensen’s laughter filled the room. I hugged him tighter to me as he tightened his grip around me.

“Oh my god… (Y/N), you’re hugging him.”

I did not need to open my eyes to know tears were slipping down my best friend’s cheeks. Her voice was thick with utter joy and amazement.

“Does this hug mean that you don’t hate me?” His question caught me off guard.

Jensen’s hands kept me in place as he sat up swinging my legs across his. My arms are still around his neck not wanting to lose the connection. Now that my body was against his, it flooded with the strange feeling of desire. Sami joined them on the floor sitting cross legged in front of them.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you. Though I’m still upset you lied to me.” I rested my head on my arm and against the side of his neck.

Feeling him sigh and seeing Sami grinning, I knew this was a big moment for all of us. We sat on the floor for another hour talking before Jensen had to go back to his room to get ready for the day. Neither of us wanted to let go of the other. He hugged me one last time before walking out of the suite. When I turned around I was immediately engulfed into another hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” Sami squealed.

“Thanks, I think…” My sentence drifted and she pulled away from me.

I walked back toward the bed and flopped face first onto it. I felt her crawl up on the bed beside me knowing me well enough to give me space.

“Talk it out, (Y/N). What are you feeling?”

My cheeks burned from the first feeling to pop into my head, “I feel warm, anxious, happy...” I paused gathering the courage to say the last word, “desire.”

“I’m sorry, what was that last one?” Sami eagerly asked.

I sat up, “Desire.” Saying the very word felt weird.

She began to clap and raised her hands in the air, “Praise the lord!”

“Don’t get all weird about it. I don’t know what any of this means. My body is tingling…”

Sami interrupted, “I bet it does…”

“Shut up, mostly not in that way. I don’t know how to act around other people anymore. What is too much touching? What is too little? What does a hug mean? I have too many questions and all the answers just walked out the door.”

I looked over as my phone chimed seeing a message from Ross, “I guess I need to change that now.” I murmured as I pulled up his message.

“First, thank you for trusting me with a hug. It means the world to me. I wanted to know if you wanted to have an early lunch with me? We could eat in my room or restaurant or your room with Sami. Whatever you are most comfortable with. Let me know.”

I held my phone up for Sami to read and she jumped off the bed, “You can have our room. I will go entertain myself by the pool.”

I texted him back that he could come to my room as Sami began tossing clothes out on the bed, “What are you doing?”

“Finding you the perfect outfit. Now go shower so I can play dress up with you.” She clapped her hands excitedly as I groaned loudly.

Looking in the mirror again, I pulled at the shirt clingy to every soft, round surface of my waist. I pushed my stomach watching as it bounced back into place like jello. Turning to the side, I sucked as many rolls as I could inward, holding my breath. The air rushed from my lips as a knock came from the door. Making my way towards it, I grabbed my zip-up hoodie slipping my arms in it quickly.

“Hi.” The word came out more breathlessly than I wanted.

My inner voice whispering, “Yeah fatty, let him know that walking across the room makes you lose your breath.”

“Hey there, I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and grabbed lunch for us.” Jensen held up a paper bag from a local sandwich spot.

As he walked in, I took a moment to truly admire him. He looked like a male model in his tight dark jeans, black boots, dark olive Henley and sunglasses resting on top of his unruly, sandy brown hair. His smooth voice caught my attention.

“You could take a picture and it would last longer.” He chuckled sitting down on the couch and laying out their lunch.

I sat on the opposite side of him as far away as I could. Even though my body desperately wanted to be closer to him, I kept my distance not pushing my mental capacity. He glanced over a hint of disappointment in his eyes seeing me so far away.

Jensen slid a sandwich towards me, “I remember you telling me that you love ham and swiss with tomato.”

“Thank you.” I unwrapped the sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips.

We ate in silence as a strange tension built between us. My stomach churning to the point I could no longer eat. I would look over to him out of the corner of my eye to find his eyes drifting over me. I wrapped my hoodie around me instinctively trying to hide the imperfections.

“There’s no hoodie big enough to hide your ugliness.” The familiar voice whispered.

I shook my head when I heard music playing, looking back to Jensen. He smiled sheepishly as he set his phone on the table.

“I thought maybe some background noise would help,” He stood up clearing the food from the table then stood in front of me with his hand out, “Trust me?”

His eyes were shining from the afternoon rays of sun coming from the window and his lips were spread in a gentle smile. I exhaled slowly allowing all the tension to leave my body and placed my hand in his. He pulled me up from the couch taking my hands and placing them behind his neck. His large hands slid down my sides to my hips and I flinched.

“You do know that you’re beautiful, right?” He whispered swaying my body with the music.

I shook my head, “I’m really not. Ordinary at best.”

Jensen lifted my chin, piercing (Y/C/E) meeting , “You are far from ordinary, (Y/N).”

“You’re just being kind.” I looked away as he slowly turned us in a circle.

The music continued but Jensen stopped moving, “I have so many questions but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or have you running to the hills.”

“Questions for me? Surely, you have better things to do with your time other than sitting inside with me. Don’t you have fans to entertain?” I smirked.

He chuckled, “Lucky for you, I happen to have the day off. I normally spend the day with my family. However this year they all ditched me.”

I mockingly acted shocked, “Oh no! You poor thing.”

His eyes narrowed in on me before laughing, “My mom and dad are somewhere in Spain enjoying their anniversary gift. My sister decided a girls trip with her best friends was better than hanging with me for the day. My brother is always busy with his family. You’re stuck with me.”

“I guess there’s worse ways to spend my day. Okay, ask away but I’m not promising I’ll answer them all.”

Jensen led me back to the couch, but kept ahold of my hand as we sat back down. He laced his long fingers with mine. His thumb brushing over my knuckle. I settled back against the couch once again wrapping my hoodie around me.

“What were you thinking when I put my hands on your hips earlier?”

I bit my lower lip, “I was mortified that you were touching my squish rolls of skin. I was thinking you must be disgusted by it.”

“Wow…” He squeezed my hand, “Whoever he was he really did a number on you. If I ask his name and address would you be against me and Jared beating the crap out of him?”

A genuine burst of laughter echoed in the room, “He’s really not worth it. Plus, he is much happier with his life now and that’s all that matters. He deserves to be happy.”

I was surprised to see Jensen face scrunched up in anger, “But you don’t?” He leaned in slightly, his features softening.

“No, I don’t.” The words came out without even a second thought and seeing Jensen recoil from them as if they had slapped him in the face twisted my heart.

His tongue darted out over his lips and the electrical energy between us sparked wildly, “You’re wrong. You deserve all the happiness in the world. Any man who told you otherwise is no man at all.”

He was leaning in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart pounding in my ears and my body urging me to meet him in the middle. His forehead pressed against mine and his nose caressed mine.

“I’m going to kiss you.” he whispered.

“I don’t think I remember how to kiss back.” The pathetic confession was followed by a wayward tear slipping down my cheek.

His soft, full lips pressed gently against mine. My mind searched for the file within the long abandoned cabinets for how to kiss someone. He pulled away for a split second only to return his lips to mine. I found my lips pushing against his out of basic instinct. Our lips melded together for a moment before I felt him smile against mine.

His hands cupping my face, “I think it will all come back to you easier than you may think.”

I took in a deep breath letting it out in a short burst, “I think you believe in me too much for only meeting me a few hours ago.”

Jensen was still holding my face as he leaned back, “Other than Jared and Mish, I have never felt closer to anyone, but you.”

“You have your work cut out for you then,” I pointed to my head, “because it’s a nightmarish mess up in here.”

He leaned in kissing me once again, “You are worth every second of being with you because you’re stunning, smart, talented, caring and most of all you’re beautiful inside and out.”

I stared up at him speechless as my inner guard laid down her shield, “I like this one.”

“No… no one has ever said that about me. I-I don’t know what to say or how to react.” I stammered, unable to comprehend what he said.

He smiled widely, “Get used to that feeling because I’m preparing for you to feel that way a lot. Now, I don’t want to test your boundaries too much so I think we should hang out here and watch a movie.”

Jensen moved to the end of the couch resting his arm along the back of it and propping his feet on the table. For the first time in forever, there were no inner voices to keep me from doing what I desperately wanted. I moved over next to him resting my back into his side and stretching my legs out to the other end of the couch. His arm draped over the front of my chest and his fingertips brushed against my side.

This time there was no flinching and I smiled at the small victory.

The rest of the weekend was like a dream. Seeing the convention backstage, meeting all the rest of the other actors on the show and most of all Jensen’s constant touch comforted me throughout it all. Sami beaming with pride as I pushed myself to be in the crowd for the concert on Saturday. When Sunday came, I found myself riddled with sadness knowing I would have to leave this magical weekend behind.

Sami had decided to go back to the hotel while I waited for Jensen to finish his autographs. I had noticed Clif, the boys’ friend and bodyguard, staying close by me. When the last fan left the autograph room, he motioned for me to follow him. Entering the room, I found Jensen with his head down on his table while Jared and Misha were fooling around at theirs.

Walking up, I slid my hands over his shoulders and began rubbing the knots out of them. A small groan escaping his lips sent a wave of desire over my body. I moved my hands down his back eagerly wanting to hear him again.

“Hey, if you’re giving free massages away I’ll take one!” Jared called out.

Jensen’s head snapped up, “Don’t even think about it Padalecki. Her hands are too precious for your sweaty self.”

I chuckled as he stood up letting my hands drift down his back. I knew he was fit but his body was firm and lean in all the right spots. As he moved away I found my fingers stretching out to touch him again. All weekend I had found myself craving his touch. My mind was obsessively thinking about his hand in mine or my arms around his waist or his hands gripping my hips. My cheeks felt like they were on fire and I heard him chuckle.

“You okay? You kind of spaced out for a moment.”

I nodded smiling, “I’m great. Just thinking was all.”

“Well come on, you and I can grab something to eat then hang out in my room.” His arm slipped around my shoulders and instantly I relaxed into his embrace.

Dinner was unexpectedly crashed by Jared and Misha tagging along. We found a twenty-four hours diner near the hotel that was nearly empty and we all spent a few hours talking, laughing. I could not help the sadness creeping over me as the minutes passed by. Minutes I was losing to have Jensen to myself. As if he read my mind he excused us to head back to the hotel.

We walked in silence, hand in hand. Stepping into the elevator, he pulled me into his side and I wrapped my arms around his waist. His room was on the opposite end of the same hall as mine. Stepping inside, the door clicking shut as we stood across from one another. It was like a shotgun going off as Jensen closed the distance between us. His hands sliding down my body as his mouth crashed to mine.

As suddenly as it happened, it was over.

“I’m sorry… shit. (Y/N) I’m really sorry.” His pleads confused me for a moment.

Breathing heavily as he stepped back further from me I blurted out, “W-Why are you apologizing? D-Did I do something wrong?”

His dark forest eyes snapped up, “You do something… you didn’t do anything but be you, (Y/N). I just couldn’t stop myself. This weekend has been the best one in my life. Being around you, holding your hand, kissing you has rejuvenated me. I just want more of you, all of you. Simple looks you give, the way you hold yourself and the moment you open yourself up to reach out to me. I just found myself unable to hold back anymore. I know…”

This time it was me who closed the distance between us. My lips crashing into his. My hands running up his broad chest and into his soft hair. The soft moan escaping my lips as we parted.

“I want you to have me…” I whispered in between breaths, “I’m nervous with a bunch of what ifs running in my head.”

“Do you trust me?” The corner of his lip curling upward.

“Yes.”

Jensen took my hand leading me into the bedroom of his suite. He gently picked me up and sat me on the bed. He knelt in front of me, slipping my shoes from my feet then pulling my socks off. His thumbs pressing into the bottom of my feet as I began to giggle.

“Oh… now that is an amazing sound. I must hear that again.” He smirked, tickling my feet.

I fell back in a fit of giggles as Jensen’s laughter joined mine. I leaned up on my elbows looking down at Jensen resting his chin on my knee. He lifted his brows asking permission and I nodded. His hands drifted over my calves, up to my knees and over my thighs.

“You have incredible legs. I found myself staring at them as you would walk in front of me with Sami. Wondering how they would feel beneath my hands.” He gently squeezed them near my hips.

His knee pressed into the mattress between my legs as his firm body hovered over mine. My fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt pushing it up and hesitantly touching his stomach. Jensen sucked in a quick breath as his hands paused on his hips. I focused on the feeling of his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips. His flat stomach is surprisingly soft.

I grasped the end of his shirt pulling it towards his head as he pulled back allowing it over his head. Taking it from my hands, he tossed it on the floor. I took in every inch of his skin from his muscles flexing to the freckles decorating it.

“You beautiful, you know that?” I did not think he heard me until I saw the smug smirk on his face.

He leaned down kissing me, “Stealing my lines, sweetheart.”

His hands went back to my hips as his lips left a trail of kisses down my neck, “You think that your softness is revolting, but I find it inviting.”

I froze as his hand pushed up into my shirt touching my stomach. I squirmed as he pushed my shirt up just under my bra. My hands threading through his hair as his lips pressed small kisses against my stomach.

“Jensen…” The tension in my tone caught his attention.

His eyes filled with worry, “Too much?”

I took a few deep breaths and shook my head, “I’m fine, promise.”

“See there you go, being brave and pushing yourself. You have no idea how sexy that is.” He murmured against my skin.

As Jensen’s mouth neared the waistband of my jeans, I tugged his hair motioning for him to come back up to her. He smiled randomly kissing spots along my body. His lips finally met mine as I slid my arms around him. His tongue swiped across my bottom lip as they parted for him. His gentleness and care to make me comfortable broke down the last existing wall of defense.

Their kiss deepened. My body burned with a need to feel Jensen’s skin against mine and to be close to him in every way physically possible. Foreign pressure began to simmer deep within me and I lifted my hips pressing them against his thigh.

He pulled away his eyes blown with passion searching mine for an answer to a silent question.

“Please… take away everything he did. I want to feel whole again.” I pleaded just above a whisper.

His lips were on mine again as he gently lifted me up further onto his bed. Sitting up, I pulled my shirt over my head holding it in front of me for a brief moment. His eyes watching my every move as I tossed it over the side. He reached behind me with one hand unclasping my bra in one swift movement.

I kissed his collarbone as he leaned in to do so, “Show off.”

He chuckled before leaning back and allowing me at my pace to unveiling my bare chest to him. I slid the straps down my arms holding it in place before playfully tossing it at him chuckling. Joking had always been my way of dealing with uncomfortable moments. When I looked up his eyes were drifting down my bare upper body.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He smirked as I rolled my eyes at him, “Seriously, (Y/N)... you’re absolutely stunning.”

He ran his hand down my chest, between my breasts and down to my jeans. He undid the button and slowly drew down the zipper. Hooking his fingers with a belt loops dragging my jeans down my legs. I shivered as the cool air hit my skin. Jensen tossed them off to the side then began to place gentle, open mouth kisses up my leg.

My breaths were coming out in small little puffs the further up my leg he got. His mouth hovered over her cotton cover mound inching closer to it. My teeth dug into my lip desperately wanting him to press them against me. Instead he kept his path up my body stopping at my breasts. He cupped the side of one running his thumb over my nipple.

A long sigh escaping my lips from just the slightest touch from him, “O-Oh… Jensen…” His mouth had gently suckled my other nipple, the pressure turning to an ache between my legs.

“You have no idea hearing my name from your lips does to me.” He softly said before circling my nipple with his tongue.

Feeling bold, I slid my hand down between us running it along the hard bulge being restrained by denim. Jensen sucked in a sharp breath dropping his head between my breasts, “Shit…”

“I believe I have some kind of an idea.” I smiled as he grinded himself against my palm.

He stood up at the edge of the bed, his intense stare making me tremble with anticipation. Leaning forward, his fingers hooked the sides of her cotton panties and pulled them down until they were on the floor.

“Exquisite, flawless, perfect.”

“As are you.” I sat up until I was sitting on the edge in front of him.

My hands trembled as I unbuttoned his jeans and carefully unzipped them. Jensen let out a soft hiss as I brushed against his length. His hands cupped my face pulling my lips to his urgently kissing me. I pushed his jeans and boxers down as far as I could before he pushed me back onto the mattress. His hand drifting down my body until his fingers pressed against my folds.

“Jensen, please…” I begged needing to feel any kind of relief from the pressure pulsating from between my legs, “Ohhh… god.”

Jensen began to rub lazy circles against my clit. My hips grinding against his hand as his lips pressed just below my ear, “Are you okay?”

His question sober me from the drunken stupor of desire and I placed my hand over his pushing down further, “More than okay.”

Jensen pushed one long finger deep inside me with a hiss, “Fuck pretty girl, your so tight.” He slowly pushed a second finger inside.

My head pressed against the mattress, my back arching as he pumped his thick fingers in me, “More, oh please Jensen, I need more.”

His pace picked up and I looked up to his face. His eyes wide and dark watching me come undone as his thumb rubbed harshly against my throbbing clit, “Jensen!” I cried out overwhelming pleasure wrecked through my body.

Breathing heavily, my body shaking slightly as he pulled his fingers from me, “Now that was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

A slow grin spread across my face as I pulled his mouth to mine. He positioned himself between my legs pulling away slightly, his lips grazing against mine.

“Are you sure? We can stop if you want.” Jensen’s tone was tense as I felt his length resting against my folds.

I kissed him, “I need you. All of you.”

He braced himself up with one arm as his hand slipped between us. Jensen ran the swollen head along my slickness before nudging it against my entrance. The room filled with groans and heavy breaths as Jensen slowly sheathed himself within me. There was a singe of pain as I stretched taking him his thick length but quickly was replaced with immense pleasure as he thrusted gently into me.

“So. Tight.” He panted against my cheek.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him digging my heels into him. Each stroke pushing me further to the edge. Feeling every muscle straining along his back and arms. His head buried in the crook of my neck grunting almost painfully. I knew then he was holding back.

I pressed my lips to his ear, “Jensen, I won’t break. You’re making me feel incredible, but I want you to let go. Show me how I make you feel.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he nipped at my neck and his hips snapped against me. The echoes of our skin meeting, loving praises and the headboard against the wall filled the room. I started to meet each thrust of his, the coil within me ready to snap. His hands were gripping my shoulders holding me against his burning body. I clung to him scraping my nails against his back making him growl again.

“Shit Jensen, I’m so close. Just a little more, oh god please!” I beg as he thrusted into me feverishly small grunts coming from him, “Yes, yes, oh… Jensen!”

My whole body was shaking as an intense wave of euphoria covered me. Pulsating around him, he abandoned all control chasing his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He gritted his teeth as his body went rigid before slamming into me his length twitching deep within me, “Holy shit…”

Jensen rode out his release, his arms shaking to the point he could not hold himself up anymore. I groaned as he pulled out leaving me empty. He rolled onto his back breathing heavily as I curled into his side burying my head into his chest.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” His concern only made me cling to him more.

I shook my head, “No, I’m just overwhelmed. Too many feelings at once.”

“Talk it out. Tell me what you’re feeling.” Jensen wrapped his arms around me holding me close.

I took a deep breath, “I’m feeling exhilaration, bliss, pleasure. Right now, I’m feeling empty and it’s almost like I can’t breath. I feel scared by how much I need to feel your touch.”

His fingers were drawing small circles against my bare back, “If that’s your way of asking for round two, you’re going to have to wait for a little bit. I haven’t come like that since I was a teenager.”

There was a brief moment of silence before I started to laugh. My body shaking from the laughter pouring from my lips. I kissed his chest, “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me. It’s my honor to make you laugh. Bring your pleasure. Praise you for your beautifulness. More importantly, always holding you close to me.”

I entwined my legs with his as he pulled the sheet over our naked bodies. Just when I thought he was about to fall asleep, I slipped my hand over his soft member then pressed my lips just under his chin.

“Round two?”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903-blog @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @supernaturalginger @emoryhemsworth @wednesdayismyfunday @team-free-will-you-idjiot @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @casseythebee

#jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles x plus size!reader #jensen ackles #angst #fluff #smut

114 notes · View notes

more-pokeimagines · 4 years ago

Note

6 from the Christmas list for Cyrus, if that’s okay. Thank you either way and Merry (early, when I’m sending this) Christmas! ❤️🎄

This was the perfect prompt for Cyrus, thank you for requesting it. ^^ I hope you like the result. Merry early Christmas to you too, dear!

(Prompt: 6. “You know I hate Christmas shopping.”)

Mr. Grinch – Cyrus x reader

Everything around you was bright and cheerful. The windows and doors of the shops were decorated with flashing fairy lights and artfully arranged fir sprigs with ribbons in red or white. It looked festive and appealing; yet, your boyfriend Cyrus stumped around next to you as if you had just forced him to go on a trip to hell and back.

“You know I hate Christmas shopping,” he grumbled when you gave him yet another disapproving look. You clicked your tongue. “I said you could stay at home if you didn't want to come with me.”

You didn't have to look at him to know that he was rolling his eyes right now. “Sorry that I want to spend time with you.”

“Oh come on, you know I didn't mean it like that,” you replied and nudged him with your elbow. “I'm happy that you agreed to come with me but if you really hate the holiday season so much I don't understand why you didn't want to stay at home while I get the presents.”

Cyrus let out a deep sigh. His face was mostly covered by his dark gray scarf but you could see a hint of remorse in his eyes. Still, he didn't say anything. Instead, he turned away and pretended to inspect the shop window of a bookstore.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes but underneath your scarf, you couldn't help but smile. You knew that Cyrus wasn't the biggest Christmas fan and it somehow moved you that he agreed to accompany you while you did your Christmas shopping, although he really despised overly crowded places. The only thing he liked about the holidays was probably the food: candied almonds, fruit skewers covered in chocolate, baked apples... Before your first holidays together you had no idea that Cyrus was someone who had a sweet tooth.

Once again, you nudged him with your elbow. “Hey. You know that I love to spend time with you,” you said softly and stepped behind him to wrap your arms around his waist. “And I'm glad that I don't have to buy the presents on my own.”

Cyrus huffed but the way he leaned into your touch showed you that he wasn't really upset. You knew that he was simply trying to maintain his unapproachable bad-boy-attitude, just like he always did when you were out in public. You were the only one who was allowed to look past his facade.

You got on your tiptoes and rested your chin on his shoulder for a few seconds before quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you whispered into his ear, oddly satisfied when you noticed how his pale cheeks turned into a soft rose color. It made you quite proud that you were one of the few people who could put a man like Cyrus off his stride with a simple action like that.

For a few moments, the two of you just stood there, indulging in each others' presence and lost in your own thoughts. While you mused about the presents you should get for your friends and your family, Cyrus wondered why he disliked the holiday season so much. Maybe it was because he never had a great Christmas time when he was younger; he never experienced the wonderful holidays everyone around him talked about. Or perhaps the reason was a lot simpler than that: perhaps he just didn't allow himself to get into a festive mood, to enjoy the time he could spend with the people he loved. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

He knew that it wasn't fair to act like he didn't care about any of this, especially when he was around you. You tried not to show it but he realized how much his grouchiness bothered you during the holidays. And if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was to make you upset.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I didn't mean to spoil the mood. I know how much you love Christmas.”

“I do,” you agreed. A grin flashed over your face. “But Christmas shopping really is the worst part of it.”

----

Taglist: @sinnohsimp

#cyrus x reader #cyrus pokemon x reader #cyrus pokemon imagine #team galactic cyrus x reader #team galactic cyrus imagine #pokemon imagines #reader insert

40 notes · View notes

bisexual-horror-fan · 4 years ago

Note

I'm not sure who you exactly write for but would you be able to write something with Leslie for the prompt "I can't hold back anymore"? We all know that boy has a hard time control himself *coughcoughthechokingscenecoughcough*

Anon.

I’m love you for asking me for this.

Y’all ever write out a 2.5K smut request in one afternoon because you are just THAT horny for Leslie Vernon, nope just me?

I had a LOT of fun writing this one out! I hope you like it anon!

Thank you so MUCH again for the ask and this request!

Explict. 2.5K. Leslie Vernon X Reader. Warnings: Outdoors sex, fingering, vaginal sex, cream pie.

----

Watch Your Step.

----

Leslie liked to think he had a decent amount of control, of his life, career, destiny, he felt he had things pretty figured out. His killer debut in Glen Echo couldn't have gone better, it was perfect, easily the best night of his life. He had taken a break, of course, biding his time, planning for his second foray in his killer persona carefully. He was excited as expected, but nervous too particularly because of that very same thing, expectation. There were expectations to live up to now. Expectations that he could fail to meet. After all the time preparing he at least had some decent confidence in himself that this would go well.

You were a big part of that confidence.

You had heard about Leslie, I mean how couldn’t you when you lived less than an hour away from Glen Echo? You always were the curious type and you decided to visit the infamous farm on a day off, the last thing you expected was to meet the man himself. He assumed you were just another gawker, wanting to poke around and be a bother, but when he confronted you instead of being afraid you gushed about him, praising him, talking about particular details, intimate details that the general public couldn’t have known about you had his attention. You were a fan, and a knowledgeable one at that. You had a thing for looking up and researching killers, always had, and when Leslie Vernon cropped up and you started looking into him your interest in him was intense and immediate.

You and Leslie got along like a house (barn?) on fire, you had been by a few times since that initial meeting when you found out he was preparing for a repeat performance and you were ecstatic! You mentioned you were thinking about a “career change” and inquired if he would be into you helping him out for experience and to see if you had what it took and I mean how could he say no to that?

So it went, you coming by a few times a week to spend time with him, he showed you the ropes, you were having a great time with him. Unfortunately the past two weeks involved some fairly intense preparation that was easier to do on his own and you hadn’t gotten a chance to see him. You had gotten an idea to surprise him, you had heard about his mentor Eugene and his wife, Jamie, and knew Leslie went over for dinner fairly often, you thought you’d come by the farm, sneak some apples from the orchard and make a pie for him to bring along to dinner with them. A sweet gesture that you thought would go over well and also a little thank you for everything he had shown you so far.

He was watching you.

It wasn’t like you were overly loud, or bad at sneaking onto the property, he was just very adept at this, of course you couldn’t slip past him, he always knew when someone was on his land. He would be a pretty poor excuse for a killer if he didn’t have his hunting ground on lock down after all. He was watching you in the orchard, you were up on the ladder, picking apples carefully, dropping them into the basket you brought along. He had missed getting to see you, he was picking his moment to creep up behind you and just scare you a little, for fun of course, make some comment that you need to pay better attention if you were going to take up the title of killer yourself. He was going to do that until he saw you lose your footing, it was fall, it rained earlier, mud on your boots and you misjudged and slipped, simple as that.

He did it without thinking, second nature really, he was fairly close by and he cleared the space between you two, hands up and he caught you, hands on your waist holding you close to the ladder, your hands gripping one of the rungs tightly, crisis averted. You looked down and let out a sigh of relief at seeing him, he was smirking up at you and he said,

“Are you falling for me?”

You laughed and shook your head as you took the few steps down the ladder his hands making sure you were steady and weren’t going to slip again as you said,

“That was terrible Les.”

“Oof. I save you like that and you are criticizing my jokes? Where’s my thank you?”

You turned around to face him, leaning back against the ladder, his hands had moved off of you and they came to rest on the side rails on either side of you.

“Thank you.”

You said it with a coy smile, he was so close to you right now. You had liked him for a long time, he liked you too, you knew it, he made it fairly clear, it was still casual between the two of you though.

You kept chatting, it was light and normal in spite of the fact you were almost pressed flush against him, see Leslie liked to think he was really in control and normally he would be right about that. I mean he was a planner by nature, very patient too, he had plans for you, while there had been touches while working, brief kisses shared over plans, relentless flirting and make outs that lingered in the house, that was as far as he wanted it to go. For now anyway, he wanted so much more, as did you but he was going to wait until after the big night but right now how you looked in the late afternoon sun and that smile of yours and the sound of your laugh. You made it hard to stick to his plans.

“So what are you doing here anyway? Other than stealing my apples.”

“Well it was supposed to be a surprise, I was going to bake a pie for you to bring to Eugene’s and Jamie’s place for dinner.”

“That the only reason?”

“I might have missed you a little bit too.”

You responded playfully, it was obviously true from your tone, you were so fucking cute, he wanted to kiss you right then, so he did and you responded immediately, a hand coming up to the back of his neck, returning and deepening it.

If Leslie wanted to be good and wait and stick to the plan then initiating this was a bad idea, your other hand coming up to rest on his chest and you pulling him closer to you by his shirt and the way you sighed his name against his mouth was a lot to handle. God you just got to him so badly, you were still resting on the ladder, one of your boots came to rest on the bottom rung, bringing your knee up between his legs and that certainly wasn’t helping his resolve.

He was quickly losing control of the situation, your mouth, hands, just you, were becoming too much for him, he broke away for a moment to say a little breathlessly,

“I missed you too.”

“Couldn’t tell.”

You hummed, pressing your leg closer in between his making his breath catch slightly before his lips crashed into yours again. He should stop, he knew he should, he told himself just a minute longer but then you let out the most delicious sounding little moan against his mouth and he thought,

“Fuck the plan.”

He broke the kiss and his hands that had been gripping the side rails way too hard came down to your shoulders, he turned you around roughly pushing you forward, you made a small surprised sound as your hands found the rung right in front of you under your chin. He ground forward and he was so hard already and you let out a soft groan as he did and as you pushed back against him, his hands on your hips, another grind and you felt his breath on the back of your neck. Fuck you wanted him so badly, he was being so bold, more bold than you had seen him before, then you heard a sound that was becoming more and more familiar to you as of late.

He had been brandishing his sickle when you had come by, he had dropped it next to the ladder when you were falling but now he had it back in his hand, one of his shoes nudged yours and you spread your legs wider to give him better access. You had on a skirt and thick tights today, well for now you did, skirt flipped up and he pulled back slightly, one hand still on your hip he used that weapon of his to slice open the crotch of your tights, sickle dropped and both hands came down and ripped a hole open in them. His chest to your back, his hand coming around your front and he started to touch you through your already soaked underwear before you could even think of protesting over your now ruined tights, you let out a soft moan as his fingers started working you over. Your hands gripped the rung harder, pushing closer into his touch, it was so fucking good you didn’t want to dare question it but at the same time you were wondering all the same, what changed? You knew he was pretty dead set on waiting but before you could ask your panties were unceremoniously pulled to the side and two of his fingers ran up your folds until they reached your clit and lingered there for a moment, circles rubbed into you making you cry out,

“Ah! God-Les!”

“Fuck.”

He breathed in your ear and his fingers moved back down, two dipping sliding inside of you, making you let out a moan once they were fully inside. It was a cool afternoon and you felt so hot inside, so wet, ready and inviting. You moaned his name again, eyes falling closed as his fingers fucked you open even more, you wanted him so badly already, his fingers felt good but not enough, nowhere near enough right now. Intuitive as ever, as if he could read your mind his fingers slipped out of you and you heard him opening his pants behind you, messy open mouthed kisses being placed along your neck before he breathed into your ear,

“I can’t hold back anymore.”

Fuck if you weren’t already dripping, which judging by the feeling on your thighs you were, than you would be now. The need was apparent in his voice and once he had freed himself he stroked over his length, using the same hand he had just used on you, spreading your wetness over him and letting out a soft groan as he did so.

“I-I don’t want you to hold back. Please Les?”

Your hands moved up a rung, now above your head, ass pushed back closer, inviting him, looking over your shoulder to him when you asked it. When you looked and sounded this good he could do nothing but oblige you. Normally, sex standing up would be a bit of a challenge but thankfully with the ladder right here it was much easier to line up right, rungs used for support. He was pressed to you once more, one hand came up to grip your wrists, a good reminder of just how strong he was, with the help of his other hand he sunk inside your slick heat, another shared moan between the two of you.

After weeks of tension and teasing this felt so fucking needed, so perfect, the stretch of him was good. He only paused for a moment, his other arm coming around your middle to pull you even closer to him, with his other hand still holding your wrists you weren’t going anywhere, as if you would want to. When he did start moving you knew it would be impossible to stay silent, it was still the afternoon and outdoors but on the farm so far out of town you didn’t have to worry about being overheard. You couldn’t move much but the little you could you were moving to meet him in the middle, your hips moving back as he pushed forward.

Breathing picked up, the pace he set was hard and quick, no reason to rush but you both couldn’t slow down, just needed more of each other right fucking now. The sounds he made were urging you on, pleasure rising in you as you listened to his grunts of effort and groans of your name and soft praise of just how hot and wet you were, how amazing you felt wrapped around his cock. It was a cool afternoon but now with him so close to you, holding you and filling you, the sweater you had on felt almost suffocating. You were panting, you groaned his name, you pushed back a little too hard and lost your footing on the rung again, his arm around your middle holding you tighter, buried in the hilt to you, he chuckled low in your ear,

“Don’t worry I gotcha.”

You ground back on him, clenching down hard making him groan your name again, his arm slipped from around you, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you forward, his other hand still on your wrists he held you tightly to the ladder.

“Clumsy little y/n. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Once he started moving in you again it was rougher, needier, quicker. Dragging over that spot inside of you making you cry out his name. You were reaching the edge quickly, you were getting close, so fucking close yet you just couldn’t tip over, you needed a little more, he was reaching his own end but he wouldn’t finish before you. Your eyes screwed shut as you pleaded,

“Les-fuck, I’m almos-just-AH! Need a-a need-”

You were so close it was nearly impossible to string together a full sentence but he understood just what you needed.

“Plea-please Les-”

Hand leaving your shoulder, sliding down your side and around your front, under your skirt he found just what he was looking for, fingers circled over your clit and a few more thrusts later you were coming for him with another cry of his name. Your climax was too much for him, his face buried in your shoulder he came, fully seated inside you, cock pulsing along with your walls as your pleasure tapered off. As your breathing returned to normal, he placed a kiss in your hair before pulling out of you, thick and hot cum spilling down your thighs. You sighed as he stepped away to right himself and you got off of the ladder, boots back on still muddy ground, turning around, unable to remove that smile from your face. After fixing himself up he looked to you and smirked a little. He reached out for your hand, a soft kiss placed on your lips and as he pulled away he chuckled before asking,

“Do you want to come with me to Eugene and Jamie’s for dinner?”

A laugh from you before you said,

“Only if I can get changed first.”

#BHF asks #BHF writing #Behind The Mask: The Rise Of Leslie Vernon #Leslie Vernon x reader #Leslie Vernon imagine #Leslie vernon #I had a lot lot LOT of fun with this #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!#THIRST #SMUT

41 notes · View notes