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honeygrahambitch · 4 months ago

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"You're quiet." Will observed while pretending to be busy with smelling the flavour of the wine in his glass.

"Does that bother you?" Hannibal asked, not lifting his eyes from his Ipad. The answer felt slightly confrontational but overall genuine.

"It's just, unlike you."

"If I started speaking, you wouldn't be fond of what's on my mind. Let's not dwell on this anymore, shall we?"

Will's not-yet-husband senses screamed that he was in danger and that he should walk carefully.

"Avoiding the elephant in the room is even more unlike you. The fact that you are not looking at me as well. You usually look at me, Hannibal." Will said, leaning over the table.

Hannibal put his Ipad on the table and obeyed Will's request. He looked at him.

"Wh- What...have you been crying?"

"I often do when I feel powerless. Even more if I feel powerless and left out at the same time." Hannibal confessed.

"May I know what happened?" Will asked and realized his own voice didn't sound as brave as it did in the beginning. Of course the only reason Hannibal would cry for would be frustration.

He is used to things going his way.

Hannibal turned on the Ipad again, did some scrolling and then pushed the Ipad to Will on the table.

Will grabbed it and started reading but stopped after the first few lines of the news article.

"So this has to do with the case I worked on yesterday?"

"It has to do with the way you started negotiating with someone holding a gun to your head after telling the snipers and SWAT teams to drop their weapons."

"I knew he wouldn't press the trigger, he was just a scared boy. I wanted to avoid his death."

"You wanted to avoid his death by having him cause yours? Very smart, Will." Hannibal remarked. Will wanted to say something but Hannibal went on. "Do you remember what he told you when his gun was pressed against your temple? Many articles cited his exact words."

"That he wouldn't cause any harm if he killed me because the Bureau would replace me in a second."

Hannibal nodded. "See, Will, he was right. Jack has lost ponies before, it would take him only a few months before he would find someone smart enough to do his dirty work."

Will decided to say nothing and keep listening.

"And do you remember what you said yesterday after you survived this incident? You came here, you were really satisfied with how it went. You didn't give me any details and I really believed it was just an ordinary day at work. And the reason you didn't give me any detail is because you don't actually care about how close you were to losing your life."

"I had it under control."

"You did not. It was not even your job to negotiate. You told the official negotiator to let you take care of it. While you had a pipe pressed to your temple."

"I am confused. Are you mad because I didn't tell you about this or because I risked my life?"

"I am mad because you made me worry. I have huge faith in you and your resourcefulness and strength. I have hardly ever been worried about you. However this situation...caused me great distress."

"Did you spend the whole night reading all the articles on that?"

"Not the whole night. Half of it. I was busy during the second half."

Will frowned. Then it made sense.

"The guy who almost blew my brains... he was in the kidney pie." He phrased it as a statement and not as a question because he knew he was right.

Hannibal sighed. "I needed some sort of control. After I killed him I realized that I would have done exactly the same thing if he had killed you. Which made me realize I still had zero control over the outcome."

"If he had killed me, the FBI would have killed him before you got a chance to do so."

The thought made Hannibal spiral even more.

"I can't change what happened. But, I am sorry you were worried." Will said as he was observing the dark bags under Hannibal's eyes. A rare sight. "I take it the the articles didn't cite what I told him while he was deciding whether to shoot or not? I wasn't loud enough for anyone else to hear."

"No." Hannibal replied thoughtfully. "What did you tell him?"

"I said that while the Bureau would indeed replace me in a second, I have someone at home who is waiting for me." Will answered. "I told him I mean so much to you that you wouldn't be able to replace me. I told him that I am stupidly in love. I told him that by killing me, he is ruining us both."

Hannibal remained petrified.

Will was in fact aware of how much he meant to him. His confession did not make what he did less stupid but it changed something.

"Is that so?" Hannibal whispered as he reached for the bottle of Cabernet.

"It obviously is. I'm wondering if what you did was in fact more stupid than what I did."

"How so?"

"You read a few articles, you threw a little tantrum because you could not play God, you cried then you went to murder the guy. Then you didn't feel better so you started crying again."

"Rough night." Hannibal commented, a bit amused by the fact that Will had accurately described his night.

"I'm staying here tonight."

"You don't have to, darling." Hannibal said, still reflecting on the lovely things Will had said about him.

"No, I will stay. You might discover what happened today at work and I'm not letting you spiral again."

"What hap-"

"Were you saying you made Tiramisu?"

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal fanfiction

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gayboydetectivez · 4 months ago

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Tw smoking

Dbda drabble

"Job officially jobbed, good work, guys!" Charles smiled at his companions, coat still covered in green slime from the evil plant they had just killed.

It hadn't been a difficult case, comparatively, but hunting through the forest for a cursed bush and then losing the bottle of weed killer had made it significantly more difficult than intended.

"We should head back to the office." Edwin replied, still scratching notes into his book as he led the walk back to the bus stop.

After a few minutes crystal began digging in her bag, retrieving a small paper box and a lighter. Pulling one of the thin sticks from the box, putting it to her lips, she ignited the end, inhaling deeply.

"You smoke?" Charles asked incredulously.

"Is that uncommon now?" Edwin chimed in, a confused look on his face.

"It's frowned upon, but plenty of people still do it." Crystal answered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. In her months with the agency, she had grown accustomed to Edwin's cultural questions, no longer being overly sarcastic in response to his genuine confusion over time period differences.

Edwin hummed thoughtfully, watching the grey plumes curl in the air before being swept away by the wind.

"Did you ever smoke, Charles?" He asked after a moment.

"Occasionally. When the lads had a carton or I was at a party." Charles answered simply, leaving out the risk coming home smelling of cigs posed to 16yr old him and his fathers impact on his lack of typical teen rebellion. "You?" He asked, mainly to be polite. Charles knew Edwin had a sheltered childhood, as most childhoods seemed to be during his era, but he had grown fond of their usual back and forth routine.

"Me? Oh yes, quite frequently." He answered, earning duel shocked expressions from his companions.

"You smoke?" Crystal asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"Well it has been over a century..." He corrected snarkily, "but yes. It was common place when I was alive for boys as young as 10 to get their first cigarette case and begin smoking. It was a right of passage of sorts, i suppose." He shrugged.

"Next you're gonna tell us you were shooting whiskey and doing lines of coke." Crystal retorted, earning a chuckle from Charles, who despite being well aware of his best mate's rebellious nature, simply couldn't imagine him getting drunk and doing drugs like some rockstar Charles had on his bedroom wall as a child.

"'A gentleman does not shoot whiskey, he sips it'" Edwin quoted, allowing Charles for a moment to envision what Edwins father had sounded like, "and cocaine was a very powerful and frequently prescribed medicine. It was a main ingredient in cough syrup." He informed his stunned counterparts.

Charles tried to press back the images flashing in his mind of Edwin drunk, cheeks pink, smoke swirling around him as a cigarette balanced carelessly between his fingers.

"Can ghosts smoke?" Crystal asked unprompted. "Like have you tried?"

"I can't say I have," he said, "though there were moments in Hell where I thought I could have killed for a cigarette and a drink." He added, laughing the way he usually did when speaking of Hell. Casual but with a faint tightness to it, not quite forced but not quite natural either.

Crystal dug the cardboard pack out from her bag again, offering one to Edwin. He gave his usual resigned sigh and took one, rolling the white stick between his long fingers, inspecting it, before bringing it to his mouth. Charles breath caught in his throat. Crystal flicked the lighter and Edwin leaned in to inhale through the flame. The smoke plumed around his face as his eyes fluttered shut in memory.

He exhaled a small cloud and looked at the expectant faces around him. "I can't exactly taste it, but it is rather pleasant." He answered their unasked question, taking another drag. If Charles could blush, he would be the same color as his shirt. "My apologies, would you like to try?" Edwin asked, holding the lit cigarette out to Charles who had spent the majority of this time staring at him in stunned awe.

Charles looked from the offending item to his partners expectant face and back again before sliding the cigarette from Edwin's thin pianists fingers and placing it in his own mouth. He tried not to think too hard about the fact it had also been in Edwin's mouth just moments ago. He inhaled, smoke filling his chest, the usual subtle burn missing as it flowed down his windpipe and back out again. Edwin had been right, he could almost taste it. The usual flavor dulled by death, instead a faint earthy flavor filled his senses. It was familiar enough to recognize as tobacco but lacked the overpowering taste.

Blowing out the smoke, he smiled at Edwin's expectant face. "That's brills." He said, returning the cigarette to his partner.

#i might turn this into a charles realizing edwin is hot and rebellious fic #but rly i just wanted to investigate edwins relationship to smoking #dbda #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #dead boy detective agency #charles rowland #george rexstrew #jayden revri #crystal palace #dbda fanfic #drabble

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bigtreefest · 6 months ago

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Chapter 8b: Last Night

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s last night on your farm

Word count: 2,645

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, p in v protected sex, crying during sex (well technically after), dry humping, vaginal fingering, sweet soft intimacy, kissing

Author’s Note: This could probably be read as a stand-alone, but I’ll catch you up in case you feel confused. Bucky made a business deal to work on your farm for a month. This is the last afternoon/night of that after spending all that time side-by-side. If you’re interested in the series, you can catch up with the link below or check out the rest of the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

On the final Saturday that Bucky was at the farm, the two of you practically stayed pressed together. It’s not as if you were unproductive, but you were glued at the hip, never leaving the office for too long without the other under the guise of tying up loose business ends before his departure. You knew once he was gone, he’d have to take all his burdens back off Steve, leaving him swamped with work, unable to pay you any more attention than he did his other associates.

With your efficiency and his inability to say no to you, all ‘work’ had been completed before noon. Sure, you could’ve dragged it out, but then you wouldn’t have had time to just enjoy each other’s presence like you had gotten used to. Before that could happen, though, you presented him with one last task.

Bucky sat on your oversized desk chair with you in between his legs. His chin was tucked over your shoulder as he rubbed up and down your thigh with his ringed hand. The cool metal gave you goosebumps on your bare skin, the nice weather allowing you to wear shorts and the lack of physical labor giving Bucky the opportunity to don his jewelry once again. You ignored the way your body shuddered at his touch, instead looking back at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay, cowboy. I think we’ve got your first few months of shipments all planned, so now onto my last order of business.”

He cocked his head to look at you with an amused, but tentative smile. “And what might that be?”

“Pull out a pen.” You stood up and shuffled the papers on your desk, looking for a blank one and setting it in front of him. You took a seat on the other side, not missing his slight pout and confusion as to why you moved so far and what was going on.

“Now that we’ve reached the end of the month, I want to assess what you’ve learned. I’m gonna shoot questions at you, and you write your answer so we can determine whether or not you actually took in information or just followed me around and mooched off my free meals.”

Bucky laughed when you shot him a wink and happily obliged you, a sparkle in his eyes, admiring the way you were demanding something of him with a sweet smile on your face, just like the first time you met. He gave a slight nod, pen at the ready. “Alright, sweet Honeybee. Hit me with it.”

You crossed your arms and legs, watching him as you rattled everything off you could think of, from super obvious things, like which animal lays eggs, to asking nearly impossible things, like the brand of feed given to the dairy cows. Bucky’s reactions to each question were a treat, some causing him to light up with knowledge, others making him roll his eyes at your specificity.

“Last question. This one’s worth a thousand points. Write something you think will impress me. Something out of the blue, whatever’s on your mind. Anything at all.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, tapping the cap of the pen against his bottom lip in thought. You watched his playful features morph into something serious, something soft, as he scribbled one line at the bottom of the paper.

‘I wish I could stay here longer.’

You leaned forward so could read his paper upside down, scanning the answers, each one surprisingly correct. Not a single one was off and he even put more information than you’d asked for on some of them. You were not only amazed with the way he indulged your ridiculous request, but with how this whole time, he had actually been listening and watching, holding onto every word and fulfilling his side of the deal.

As you looked up from the paper and into his eyes, you could feel the warmth through his gaze even that far apart. You stood up again and Bucky did the same, coming around to meet you. It was as if your bodies were magnetic, drawing you towards each other until his one hand was on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist as yours perched on his hips.

His eyes shifted between yours and he closed his eyes, drawing his forehead against yours before he spoke against your lips. “I’m serious. I love every moment with you. And I’m sorry it’ll have to end.”

You swallowed and let your eyes flutter closed as you leaned into his touch and nodded. “I know. But I get that you have work to do and it was already a lot for me to request you being here for so long. But just…for right now, be with me. Enjoy what little time is left of this with me. Please.” It came out as a whisper, a plea for him to remain present while he still could. You opened your eyes and looked up through your lashes to see him searching for your gaze.

He whispered back, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Say the word and it’s yours. I’m yours. And I’ll be right there if you ever need anything. Whatever you want, Honey. And right now, I’m here with you. I only want to be… with you.”

Your eyes closed again and you nestled into his chest in satisfaction at the depth of his words. You knew he was saying he would be present, but it meant so much more. For him to make a promise like that, extending beyond just business, made you feel supported, protected, embraced.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible and pressed his lips to your hairline, then using his hand against your cheek, he pulled your head so you were both leaning back enough that your gazes met before he smashed his lips against yours. It was with purpose and a new sort of urgency that you hadn’t really experienced in the slower kisses and pecks you had shared. You began to walk backwards and Bucky followed, lips attached to yours in a near-lock as your tongues danced, not unlike your feet, performing similarly to the two-step you had taught him weeks before. Your hands slid up a down his chest and began to pop open the buttons of his flannel shirt as his ran under yours, feeling the softness of your belly and tracing upwards, raising the hem of your shirt as his callused fingertips sent a thrill through you.

The two of you removed your clothing piece by piece, discarding them carelessly as you crossed through the living room and waltzed carefully up the steps, grateful Peter was out of the house for the day and helping Curtis with the weekend chores.

Clad only in underwear, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards your room, falling down on the bed as he crawled over you. His lips met yours once again as you widened your legs, allowing his hips to grind on your core. Your gasp at the sensation allowed Bucky’s tongue to explore your mouth, swallowing down each other’s moans and drawing closer and closer. Bucky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, the both of you looking deeply into the other’s eyes and panting.

His fingers traced down your side to play with the hem of your cotton panties, and you nodded, wordlessly giving him the permission he needed to pull them down. Bucky groaned at the sight of the damp fabric as he dragged the material down your legs, kissing back up your body and stoping to lovingly lick and nip at your neck as you whined and writhed for some sort of friction again.

“Jamie, please.”

He smiled and sighed at the way you begged for his touch, not used to being the one in control of anything since he’d been here, and now holding your pleasure in his hands. His fingers reached down to find your clit, dipping towards your entrance first to gather your arousal before making slow, teasing circles on the sensitive button. His soft touch set your body on fire. It had been so long since you’d been this intimate with anyone, all of your focus on the farm, and the exhaustion after a long week, not to mention the hurt from Jake deterring you from the desire for a partner.

“I’m here, I’m with you, Honey. I’ve got you-give you whatever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

Sensing your sensitivity and deducing how long it had likely been for you, Bucky slowly slid his middle finger through your slit, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn’t want to miss a single second of the way you nearly crumbled under his touch. Your eyes were half-lidded in pleasure as your body lurched forward at his slow, gentle intrusion, accompanied by a moan. He drank in the view, more gorgeous than he imagined you could be, back bowing at his touch. Bucky added another finger and the sensation of the cool metal against the heat between your legs was almost too much to handle.

Your legs began to shake as he slowly coaxed in a third finger, his thumb gently strumming your clit, deft fingers stretching your entrance. The feeling was overwhelming and pushing you impossibly close to an edge you hadn’t experienced in years at the hands of another.

“Jamie, Jamie it’s so much. So good. I’m so close.” It came out between hiccuping gasps as you tucked your face into his neck, throwing your arms around his muscular back and legs around his waist, pinning his hand between your bodies. You were clinging to him with your whole being as you reached your peak with a keen, pussy clenching his fingers almost painfully, but Bucky didn’t mind. He would’ve let you break his arm to see and feel the way he was wringing pleasure from the distant corners of your body right now. He continued to slowly pump his fingers against your walls, bringing you down from your high.

You would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Bucky hadn’t had a firm arm behind you, holding you to his chest where you had curled into him, as you gasped for air. You were finally able to pull your face away and look into his eyes again, his burning with desire and yours hazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you, uh, do you have a-“ Bucky’s eager nod cut you off as he pressed another sloppy kiss against your lips before slinking back off the bed and walking towards his bag in the corner of the room.

“I think so. Let me check.” Bucky hadn’t expected anything like this to happen over this month, so he definitely didn’t have a condom prepared. Perhaps his emergency one was still in his wallet, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He was pleasantly surprised to find it easily, rolling it on and coming back on the bed towards you.

As he hovered over you, you ran your hands along the scruff on the sides of his cheeks before pulling him down for another kiss. You could feel the weight of his hard length resting against your lower stomach, reaching down to stroke him gently. Bucky tensed at the sensation with a groan, throwing his head toward your shoulder and taking the opportunity to kiss your neck and down your collarbone before making his plea.

“Ride me, Honey. Need to feel you.”

You bit your lip nodding, complying with his request and moving to sit up as Bucky laid down against your pillows, right next to where you had just been sprawled out. You shuffled on your knees to straddle his hips, grinding down and letting his cock run through your folds, slick in preparation for him. You reached a hand down to perch his tip at your entrance, basking in the groan he let out at the sight. You slowly lowered yourself, the broad tip pushing your walls outward, pressure causing you to sharply gasp when he passed the threshold of your tight hole.

Your thigh muscles strained as you attempted to slowly but steadily lower yourself on his length, hyper aware of the delicious stretch of his thick cock inside you. The two of you sighed in relief as you bottomed out, nails gripping tightly into Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky held your hips as you adjusted to him, careful to not squeeze too hard from every time your tightness choked his dick. He fought the urge to throw his head back against the headboard, wanting to keep his eyes on you and where your bodies were connected. The sight of you splitting yourself open over him nearly made him come on the spot, but he tightened every muscle in his body again, trying to resist the urge. He only had one condom, after all, and he wanted to drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He could see it on your face and feel your body start to relax as your nails gently scratched over his tattooed chest. You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and dragging a whine from both your lips. Your speed picked up, his hands continuing to guide you, finding a smooth rhythm that pulled moans, grunts, and gasps out of the two of you, until just like before, Bucky could feel you clenching again. He lowered his one hand, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tender circles, leading you both barreling towards a shared peak. Your hips stuttered and wavered with exhaustion, but Bucky continued guiding you with his firm, strong hand.

“C’mon Honey. You can do it. I can feel you’re close. Let go for me, sweet thing. Please. Come with me.” His voice was gruff, dripping with desire.

Your hands ran down the muscles of his torso and squeezed against his abs, nails digging in slightly. You used your last bit of energy to nod your head and urge him to help you along. Bucky planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting in tandem with the grind of your hips. You leaned down for a final kiss, wanting to be ever closer to him. As he gave into the gesture, it felt like everything hit you at once along with your shared orgasm: the sweet, tender moment, the reverence and respect he was treating you with throughout, and the fact that you didn’t know if it would ever happen again or if you’d see him after tomorrow.

Bucky came with a deep, but soft growl beneath you as he stroked your hair after you’d pulled away from his lips and tucked yourself into his neck again. He sat there, letting you cling to him for a second before he felt the unexpected wetness against his shoulder. Tears has started streaming down your face, and when Bucky caught a glimpse, his look was similar. Jaw clenched with water in his eyes.

The next morning, it was time for Bucky to go. The two of you had arranged it so you could have one last drive to the gas station together where you’d be meeting Gio.

Bucky convinced you to let him drive your truck for a final time, and you agreed, easily giving in to his request. He drove with the windows down, radio low on the dash, and one hand on the wheel. The other rested on your thigh while you clutched the arm attached to it against your chest and rested your head on his shoulder. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head. Bucky’s callused thumb made small circles on your skin as the breeze blew through the cab, paired with the warm glow of the early morning light, sun shining on your time together like it always had.

Next >

Bonus A/N: All this writing and this is the first time I’ve done smut for Bucky. I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear what you thought from a comment, reblog, or ask!!!

Series Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22

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yooglefics · 7 months ago

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Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader ) Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried. Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again.

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name.

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip.

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you.

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included.

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?”

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat.

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You don't answer.

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?”

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?”

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him.

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times.

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?”

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day.

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy.

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in.

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers.

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please”

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want.

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.”

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…”

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again.

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.”

“You want some help with that?”

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly.

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.”

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth.

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm.

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat.

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea.

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.”

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then.

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.”

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[ afterhours(y/n): Thank you for the birthday wishes! I indeed got a nice present, don't you think? [ picture ] ]

[ SugaD: Unbelievable 😻 Can we do something for my birthday too? ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

#( writing. )#( reveal )#( reveal: celebrating )#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x f!reader #yooglefics

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ask-codeearasure · 1 month ago

Text

Color Spectrum Duo: Weed

Inspired by an exchange with @howlsofbloodhounds

Cw: marijuana usage

There was a first time for everything. In Killer's case, it appeared marijuana was a myth to him until today. Frankly speaking, resorting to weed for a bonding experience was one of the last things on Color's list, but Killer was curious, and who was Color to deny him?

Well. He did deny him more than one blunt, cause he wasn't about to foster an addiction even though Killer had many arguably worse things to his name. Sue him for being a responsible friend, he supposed.

They had gone to a cabin in the outskirts of the wilderness, somewhere on the Earth of one of Outertale's pacifist timelines. Not that Killer had to know that; Color specifically picked a spot that covered up as many stars as possible come night, even if that was a result of many many years of light pollution.

Color reclined in his chair, shifting his line of sight from the sunset to the other skeleton smoking with him on the porch. It was difficult to tell how far gone Killer was in his haze, the absence of eyelights made that apparent, but the lack of DETERMINATION leaking out of his sockets was a good sign.

All things considered, he was... somewhat relaxed. Even as he leaned over the porch's railing, Killer's grip on his knife had gone lax as he balanced the blade on his right index finger, focusing on nothing specific as the both of them sat in silence.

"You good, Kills?" Color asked, crossing one leg over the other.

Killer paused, practically spitting out smoke as he held the blunt away from his mouth with his left hand and twirled it between his middle and index fingers. He muttered something in garbled Arabic, then looked over his shoulder at Color when his flaming host didn't offer a response to that.

"What would it look like if I wasn't?" The murderer replied with an empty tone, words slurring at the ends. "Were you hoping these things poison me or something?"

"Naaah, Mary Jane isn't known to poison people." The demigod stretched, popping out the stiffness in his back. "At least not creatures like us. We don't have lungs or brains to rot over the expanse of time."

"...Mary Jane?" Killer squinted.

"It's uh... that would be another name for this stuff. Marijuana, weed, Mary Jane, dope, grass, pot, pakalolo, 420, ganja, they all refer to the same thing-- don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Killer asked, tilting his head to the side as if he were analyzing one of his dusted specimens. "I'm just curious, Color. How do you know all this, as a law abiding citizen?"

Now was Color's turn to squint, sitting up to properly stare at Killer with a confused look.

"This isn't illegal knowledge, dude. Can be illegal to have weed in some areas, but not to know about it."

"Don't dodge the question." Killer said, taking another hit from his blunt. "I also asked how you know this."

"Why, cause you didn't?" Color chuckled under his breath. "Epic told me."

"Who?"

"The guy in the purple and black coat? Always keeps one eye closed, says 'bruh' a lot. That guy?"

"Huh. Thought he was the angry orange one."

"You're thinking about Delta. Wait, you don't remember Epic?"

"Should I?"

The flaming skeleton sighed through his nasal, blinking away the slight change in sight as his pupil narrowed to a sliver.

"I was hoping you would, but it's okay if not. He was barely present last you saw him."

Color took a hit, holding the smoke in his mouth for a second before shooting it out in a ring formation, noting how it stole Killer's attention.

"Anyways, I am curious about something. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course."

Killer let his knife lose balance, the handle falling back into a tactile grip.

"Ask away."

"Who are you talking about when you mention 'The Player'? I never caught onto the meaning."

Color's first guess was Killer was referring to an entity similar to Chara, Flowey, or Frisk, something with so much DETERMINATION they could dictate the passage of time and events of the reality they had both originated from. But Chara, Flowey, and Frisk were children at the end of the day. They weren't 'Players' in terms of being a god or an eldritch creature. They were just... unfortunate, and the inexperience of their youth was part of what led them from point a to point b.

After a moment of silence, Killer cleared his throat, spitting a glob of murky black DETERMINATION over the railing. He pulled up a porch chair and took a seat, putting out his blunt on the bottom of his shoe.

"Thought you would have caught onto what those are by now." "Killer, I'm autistic. I'm bound to be dense sometimes."

Killer barked an empty laugh, shaking his head. "You? Dense? Come on, Color, we both know you're gonna find my response very familiar. I mean you hang out with Ink often enough, dontcha?"

Color gave a slight frown. "...I wouldn't say often, but continue."

"Ink calls them Creators. But I call them what they are: Players. They're everywhere, always watching, playing with us like... puppets. The only reason either of us are alive, that either of us are even talking, is because they wanted us to be."

The dragon felt his ribcage rattle slightly, and he took a hit to make more smoke rings, just to calm his nerves. They were both high, he had to remind himself. Getting upset now would offer no guarantee of neither of them getting hurt.

Then again, hanging out with Nightmare's favorite toy was practically asking to get hurt. At least, that was Killer's reasoning.

Color disagreed. Killer could be so much more than what he thinks he is.

"So do you think I want to help you because one of them wants me to?"

"Yes. And you will die trying."

"I mean... if that's what it takes..."

Color blew out another round of rings when he felt a small, ashy weight land in his skull. He jolted in his seat, choking on the remaining smoke and his flames making erratic bursts until he finally managed to yank out the remainder of Killer's blunt.

Asshole.

"Killer, what the FUCK!?" The growling beast rounded on his angelic companion, but he wasn't at all phased, head turned to the smoke rings dissipating in the near distance.

"Do it again."

"...pardon?"

"Those rings. Make them again."

Color raised the only figurative brow he had and took a hit, releasing another round. Killer didn't hesitate to try grabbing one, but his fingers phased through the smoke without much bite. He tried with the second, then the third, ending with the same result, his lack of emoting being replaced with faint disappointment for only a flash. Color created another round, and at some point Killer had resorted to sitting on the railing to get better access to where they blew. He had gotten his knife stuck in the wood from when he tried to stab one, but that seemed more out of frustration than any scientific theory.

It didn't occur to Color it was getting dark until the only part of Killer he could clearly make out was the glow of his soul. But when he turned away to switch on the porch light, whatever thoughts he had in the moment were interrupted by a barely audible whine.

That... was new.

"Killer?"

His friend didn't answer, splitting a new hole in the railing to retrieve his knife, which he pocketed. Color closed the distance between them, stopping just out of range of Killer's personal bubble.

"Kills? Buddy, it was just smoke, I can make more-"

Killer grabbed Color's cheekbones, trapping his face between his hands. Color felt his clawed phalanges dig in to sustain a firm grip, then pull out. The dragon grunted, but withstood the minor discomfort if that meant Killer could ground himself.

His eye blinked back open when he felt said claws retract, continuing to let Killer hold his face like it was a confusing box of puzzle pieces.

"You're real." Killer said, the shape of his soul beginning to fluctuate, the ghost of an overturned heart amongst the mixture.

"Yeah, I'm real." Color affirmed, slowly reaching up to cup one of Killer's cheeks, brushing away a budding bit of DETERMINATION from the corner of his eye. "Were you wandering?"

"I don't know."

Killer let his hands fall, his soul stubbornly shaping itself back into a target. Color retracted his own hand, shoving it into a pocket.

"Wanna go inside? I made bechamel earlier."

"...okay."

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zaceouiswriting · 8 months ago

Text

The favorite Bat-Brother?

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Brother!Male Reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Slight Brutality

The warm summer sun shone on the beautiful world. On a day like this, you would usually have been sitting by the pool or challenging your brothers to a water fight, but instead, you were in the garage working on your car to distract yourself from what you saw the day before.

To say you were heartbroken would be an understatement. For the first time in your life, you cried. You had felt like a schoolgirl as you stormed through the front door of your home and cried your heart out. On your way to the room, you ignored your brothers' and even Alfred's pleas to talk, but you couldn't speak. Since then, you've been ignoring everyone, whether, in your bedroom or the garage, you always had your headphones on.

So it was no wonder someone tapped you or, in this case, gently kicked your leg. That alone let you know who it was, and that didn't help your terrible mood.

As you rolled your board down, on which you went under the car, the light was blinding, but you, thankfully, didn't have to get used to it because Damian came to stand over you, blocking the light. He looked moody as always, but that day he seemed strange. Suddenly, he motioned for you to take out your earbuds, which you did, only for him to squad next to you.

“Do you remember Alek? The tall black-haired one? The one who models part-time?” Damian asked you casually. But his words broke your heart even more.

“You mean my boyfri- sorry, ex-boyfriend?”

“Whatever,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. But before you could tell him to fuck off if he wanted to make fun of you, he suddenly took your hand and played with your longer fingers. It could only mean one thing: he had done something he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened? Did he do something to you? Do I have to punch him?"

Damian looked at you questioningly, as you both knew that as the only pacifist in the Bat Family, you wouldn't do that. Still, it made Damian smile.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him suspiciously because his questionable words made you feel uneasy.

“Someone got to his car last night, you know, the red sports car, where he cheated on you with this blonde girl. That someone scratched his car paint and broke his windows with a crowbar.”

You were stunned, unable to speak, and not knowing what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful, but on the other, you were afraid that he might get negatively involved with the law, even though your family is filthy rich. However, Damian had taken your silence strangely as he was fiddling with something in his pocket while, at the same time, moving nervously and still playing with your hand. You didn't know whether he was excited or nervous.

But since you still hadn't said anything after a few minutes, Damian took his hand out of his pocket, placed it in your open palm, and dropped something into it. As he pulled his hand back, you saw something small that looked vaguely like a small pebble. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you raised your gaze again, words were on the tip of your tongue, but when you looked at Damian's nervous face, your throat tightened.

Nothing was said for a moment, but when your eyes finally met, you saw the fear in his green orbs, letting you know you had to say something.

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked him quietly. “Why did you give me a pebble?”

Damian shrugged. "When I destroyed the dickhead's car, he was there too," he finally confessed. “He won’t be doing any more photo shoots anytime soon,” he continued cryptically. “Unfortunately, he was with a gang I was hunting for a while.”

You were stunned. Up until that point, you thought no one cared. You were always quiet and often felt left out of place. Unlike the others, you couldn't hurt a fly. At least not yet, even though you're Bruce's blood son, just like Damian. Although it didn't matter to you, all four boys were your brothers. You still looked after them, helped them when they were sick or injured, lent them an ear or your strength, whatever they needed. But all the brotherly love was never reciprocated. It was the very first time one of your brothers did something for you. And it was the baby brother of all people.

“Why?” You could only ask before a lump in your throat stopped you from making another sound.

Damian rolled his eyes again as if the whole thing was a nuisance to him, even though you knew better now. “I couldn’t hear you crying at night. You know our rooms are next to each other. I hear everything that happens,” he spoke the last part exasperatedly.

“But-„

Damian groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes so hard he bobbed his head. "Can you just accept it and not make a big deal about it?" His voice was just as annoyed as the rest of his demeanor.

At this point, you could only nod, still in a strange trance. You were sure that this had to be a dream because it couldn't be real life. Damian had gotten up again and was about to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped.

Damian was always the easiest for you to read, so you knew he was reluctant to say something. But as you knew him, he would turn around once to make a decision. And just as you thought, he did just that. Meeting your eyes, you could see his body tensing and then hopelessly deflating.

“It’s not a pebble,” he admitted strangely. Your face contorted in confusion. “It’s a tooth.”

“What?” you asked, confused. Your eyes fell on your hand. “Whose tooth is that?”

“Shouldn’t you remember that?" He asked you dryly. "You tongued it several times in the lounge,” Damian told you, suddenly teasing with a sideways smirk. Only to have his face scrunch up in realization and disgust. You could only laugh.

“And why is there red...color? I believe?"

"Oh." Damian suddenly became more sheepish. “Well, I accidentally broke the idiot’s tooth on his car. Even though I had already destroyed it before when I found the tooth, I took it and scratched it further in front of the dickhead's face, but just to be safe, I followed with a knife."

Damian tried to remain casual, but you could see a spark of pride in his glimmering eyes. At that moment, all you could feel was the same thing: Pride. With a speed that not even your battle-hardened little brother could comprehend, you stood up, scooped him into your arms, and swept him off his feet. You spun in circles, laughing as you watched Damian try not to smile.

“What did I do to deserve a little brother like you?”

You slowly stopped spinning until you placed him back on the ground. Only then did you see the blush growing on his pale cheeks. You nudged him and asked what was wrong with him. He didn't want to talk, so you laid your hand on his little head and ruffled his hair. You told him everything was fine, not wanting to overwhelm him further. You turned to your car but stopped when you heard a whisper behind you.

"What?" you asked, chuckling in delight.

“Because I love you,” Damian whispered again, but this time you heard it. When you saw him look away, his ears glowing red and tears in his eyes, your heart melted. It made you wonder if your brother had always been this cute or if this was a recent development.

Once again, you were in front of your brother before he could react. You pulled him close, his head barely reaching your chest. Tears quickly wet your dirty shirt. It was the first time he had shown real feelings towards someone. You couldn't bear to say a word, so you petted his head instead.

For minutes, the two of you stood there silently, enveloped in each other's warmth. Only when a lightness befalls the atmosphere did you dare to speak.

“And I love you too, little bird,” you whispered in return with a big smile. “And from today, I break my neutrality! You’re my favorite now!”

“Really?” he asked quickly, looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were even redder than before.

Instead of saying anything else, you kissed the top of his head, ruffled his hair again, and turned away, only to burst into silent tears. You just couldn't let him see you like this, you were still sore from the heartache you had just endured.

***

Damian took it as a sign to leave, but not before hugging you from behind, giving you a tissue, and running away. He went outside and walked back to the main house from the back. When he went back into the main living room, he found Jason and Dick there. He didn't care that they saw him in this mess. Instead, a devilish grin crossed his face.

Both older brothers looked questioningly at the boy, who they believed was the devil reincarnated.

“I’m his favorite!” he announced proudly. His two older brothers looked at him stunned. Then they looked at each other, wondering where Damian had come from. At the same time, something clicked within them. They both stood up simultaneously.

“You liar!” they shouted, not angry but more panicked.

"What did you threaten him with?" Jason asked further through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the little boy.

Damian shrugged. "I just helped him get rid of a little sadness by beating up his ex," he told them, equally proud. He bathed in their stupid looks before he started whistling and walked away completely relaxed.

The information left the two older brothers speechless, thinking you didn't like brutality. But maybe they had the wrong idea.

Dick jabbed his elbow into Jason's side with a mischievous grin, and when their eyes met again, he couldn't hold it back any longer. “I told you we should have done it ourselves!”

Jason mumbled something incomprehensible before leaving. Dick never thought the other one would be the soft one since he prevented them both by going after your ex, but he had a feeling another chance would soon open up. After all, you're handsome, intelligent, and a Wayne. There are other fish in the sea for you. Maybe, if he finds your future husband, he may finally become your favorite, everything he ever wanted to be. And all your brothers fought about. Only now the war has really begun.

[Masterlist]

#damian wayne #male reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #dick grayson #jason todd #batfam #dc #fluff #sad #heartbreak #bat brothers

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katareyoudrilling · 7 months ago

Text

Evidence ✂️ (Tim Rockford One-shot)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Summary: Tim knows a lot about vasectomies

Word count: ~1.8k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Vasectomy kink (aka the opposite of breeding kink), unprotected PIV, vague detective work (don’t worry about it), destruction of important documents?

A/N: It has been a while since I wrote one of these! Big thanks to @veryprairieberry for sparking the idea and for patience while I pondered it for a very long time. Also, thanks to @burntheedges for the beta and assuring me I was not crazy lol. All my vasectomy kinks are marked with “✂️” and linked on my new Vasectomy Kink Masterlist!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Think,” Tim admonishes himself, staring at the board filled with crime scene photographs and bits of evidence. “What are we missing?”

“We’ve been staring at it for days.” You pull at your neck, trying to relieve the tension, a habit you likely picked up from your partner. Sharing an office with someone will do that. You sigh and sit down at your desk, leafing through pages of witness testimony you’ve gone over a hundred times already. “Maybe we should call it a night. Look again in the morning?”

A knock at the door interrupts you. “Excuse me, detectives, the medical records you requested arrived. Thought I’d drop them off on my way out.” A lackey from the records office holds out a manilla envelope in Tim’s direction.

“Thanks,” Tim stands up from the chair he had been straddling and takes the envelope. He pulls out the stack of papers and begins to scan them one by one.

“I don’t know what you expect to find in there.” Your frustration over this case has made you pessimistic.

“You never know,” Tim mumbles under his breath as he continues reading page after page. You go back to your testimony, looking for anything you could have missed. Apparently, you’re not done for the evening.

“Got it!” Tim exclaims making his way over to you and dropping the stack of papers on top of your desk with a thud.

You read the top page. “He had a vasectomy?”

“He had a vasectomy,” Tim repeats back to you. “Five years ago. He isn’t the father.”

“You don’t know that. Vasectomies fail.” It’s compelling, but not the slam dunk Tim seems to think.

“No, they don’t, not if…” He shuffles through the papers some more. “There,” he points to a test result a few pages later, “he gave a follow up sample and no sperm was detected. The chance of a vasectomy failing after that point is basically zero. Men just say that to get out of having it done.”

“How do you know so much about vasectomies?”

“Well, I had one.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, long time ago,” he says distractedly as he makes his way back to the board of evidence, rearranging things in light of this new discovery. He picks up his mug of, what has to be by now, very cold coffee and takes a sip.

You, on the other hand, are frozen at your desk. Tim had a vasectomy? Tim is shooting blanks?

This information is eliciting a strong reaction in your body.

It’s swooping through your gut.

It’s making your palms sweat and your skin prickle.

It’s…

Rage.

Burning rage floods your system, heating your skin and making your heart pound.

“You had a vasectomy?” you ask him again, trying to keep your tone even.

“Yeah, are you… angry?” Tim turns to face you, looking confused. Maybe your voice wasn’t as neutral as you hoped.

“I’ll be asking the questions, Detective Rockford.” You push back from your desk and stand up slowly. You take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose, keeping your voice deadly calm, as if you’re interrogating a suspect. His forehead creases in confusion, but he waits for you to speak. “When did you have it done?”

“Twelve years ago now, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I decided kids weren’t something I was interested in, seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I see,” you pace across the room, tapping your finger to your lips, rage still simmering below the surface of your skin.

His eyes follow you as you go.

“You made this decision on your own?”

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. I don’t und….” You hold up a finger to silence him mid-sentence.

“You found the doctor, scheduled it, all of that?”

“Of course.”

“So, you are telling me…” You turn to face him as he takes another sip of his coffee, “that I could have had you bare these past six months?”

Tim chokes.

When he finally stops coughing, he wipes his hand across his mouth. “Is that why you’re upset?”

“Yes! We’ve been using condoms when we didn’t need to!”

“There are other reasons to wear a condom.”

“Do I need to be worried about any of those reasons with you?”

“Well, no.”

“You don’t need to be worried about them with me either.”

“I never thought I did.”

“You’re so fucking responsible.” The words come out angry, but there’s a new heat growing in your core. Responsibility is fucking hot.

“I’m… sorry?” Tim apologizes as you make your way to the office door and lock it.

“You should be sorry.” You stalk towards him until you’re close enough to grab him by the holsters. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. You pull yourself flush with his front, noting the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“How can I make it up to you?” he rasps.

“Fuck me on your desk, Detective. Bare.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re angry,” he growls, pulling you into a searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth as you both scramble with belts, buttons, and clasps. You’ve come to love the taste of bitter coffee and Chinese takeout on Tim’s tongue. Tastes you will forever associate with him as it’s never been very long since he’s had either.

Your clothes come off quickly in between frantic kisses, but you stop him as he moves to remove his shirt and holsters. “Don’t… I need something to hold on to.”

“Fuck, baby, when you say things like that…” his fingers dig into your bare hips as you set your ass at the edge of the desk and lean back on your elbows, opening yourself up for him with a smirk.

Tim’s cock bobs eagerly in front of you, framed by his open shirt. He takes it in his hand, stroking slowly up and down the thick length.

Pages of documents crinkle underneath you, but you can’t care. Right now, all that matters is the beautiful man looking down at you with lust blown eyes.

“I want your cock, Tim. Now.”

He steps into the space between your open legs, cock in hand, and guides the tip through your wet pussy. You both groan as he nudges at your clit and drags back through your folds.

“So wet,” he whispers, reverently. He repeats his path several times, coating his cock in your slick before notching the head at your entrance. “You sure you don’t want my fingers first?”

You vehemently shake your head and bite your lip as you look down between your legs. He nudges at your entrance gently and you whimper.

“I know baby, I know,” he soothes you, and probably himself, from how completely wrecked he looks – slack jawed and panting. With a guttural groan, he breaches your entrance.

You both watch as his bare length disappears into your wet heat.

“Oh god, fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head as he enters you slowly, stretching your sensitive pussy around his cock, working his way in inch by inch. You feel the thick ridge of his head drag along your walls as your body gives way. Without any barrier between you, the sensation is divine.

“Fuck, baby,” Tim breathes as he bottoms out inside you. “I need a second. You feel so good.” He closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling of you. His hands flex against your bare thighs as he takes deep, centering breaths.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze with yours and, slowly, starts to move.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with each slow thrust and drag of his cock. Sex with Tim has been good, great even, but this… this is heaven. You glance down to watch his clock slide in and out of you. The sight of him veiny and glistening is almost too much to bear. Your pussy begins to flutter.

Tim leans over you, pressing your knees into your chest. “Fuck, you’re amazing. So wet and hot and tight. It’s been…. oh god… so long…”

The new angle hits just right and you can feel your orgasm building.

“Yes, just like that,” you throw your head back. “Fuck, your cock feels good.”

Tim licks his thumb and finds your clit between your bodies, speeding up your impending release.

“Are you going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you beg, feeling the telltale pressure deep in your core.

“You have to be quiet for me,” he rumbles under his breath. You’re not new to sneaking around at work, but until now you had saved the fucking for outside the office. “Look at us,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

You look down and gasp at the sight of his thick cock entering your pussy. The last of your control snaps and you’re pulsing around him as you try not to scream his name and announce your relationship to the entire precinct.

When you come back to yourself, Tim is still slowly dragging himself through your sensitive walls, nostrils flared, clearly fighting to delay his own release.

Aftershocks zing through your body and you clench around him.

He hisses and pauses, “Baby, if you squeeze me like that, I’m going to come.”

You smile to yourself as he picks up his rhythm again, then squeeze as he pulls most of the way out.

He gasps and pulls out the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to your knee and laughing, “You have to stop that.”

“What if I don’t want to stop that?” You reach between your legs with one arm and grab his holster, pulling him to you for a sloppy kiss. “I want you to come. Fill me up, Detective.”

Tim practically growls as he lines himself back up with your entrance and slides in fast and deep. You bring your other hand up to grab the holster on the other side, balancing on your ass and holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you. His strong arms cage you in and support you as he pants into your neck.

“You feel so good, what was I thinking not fucking you bare this whole time? Oh god… oh fuck…” he stutters as he empties himself inside you.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and his scruff as he catches his breath.

“Who would have thought… responsible Detective Rockford fucking in his office.”

Tim chuckles into your shoulder. “Can’t be responsible all the time.”

You smile and pull his lips to yours for a soft kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” You peel your ass off the papers on the desk and turn to survey the crinkled mess you’ve left behind. “That’s going to be a problem.”

Tim wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “Eh, I’ll just spill some coffee on it, no one will know the difference.”

You laugh, “Tim Rockford, you are just full of surprises.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – in reblog

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #vasectomy kink #vasectomy kink club #pedro pascal characters

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noeou · 2 years ago

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DATING ADVICE 4 DUMMIES.

asking your crush for dating advice, only to use it on them.

includes: ace trappola, jamil viper, and floyd leech. ( x gn!reader )

next parts: currently unavailable.

contains: pure fluff headcanons and drabbles. more old formats because this is an old prompt, may come back to this format tho.

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’s far from experienced when it comes to this so he’ll also suggest going to trey or cater, even vil! but his heart couldn’t take helping you win another’s.

if you insist, he doesn’t want you to get embarrassed when you attempt to ask the person out so he gives you very basic stuff instead of bad advice.

though he wants to give you bad advice, as mean as it sounds.

he gets a lot quieter and fidgety, finding every excuse to leave in the least obvious way possible (spoiler: he failed.)

“hey, can i ask you a question?” you asked, feet falling into step with his as you made your way to your next class.

“yeah yeah, shoot!” ace slung an arm around your shoulder as you walked, so you’d not get swept away from the oncoming crowd of students.

“ah, well.. you see, there’s this boy—”

“‘s he giving you trouble?” ace raised a brow curiously, subconsciously tightening his grip around you.

“no no, nothing like that.” you hid your smile, letting out a sigh. “i need your advice… asking him out. like on a date.”

ace’s arm became dead weight around you, immediately pulling away from you.

he hesitated, filling the silence by clearing his throat, covering his frown with his now free hand. "oh. i think i understand."

an innocent joy laced into your features; if this weren't the context, there wouldn't be a bittersweetness in his heart at the sight of it.

"so you can help me?" you asked.

"no." he crossed his arms, watching your enthusiasm disappear. "why on earth would you come to me for that? trey and cater are ten times better at this kind of stuff."

you sighed, "it doesn't matter, you must have something!"

“yeah, i guess. ask them to meet you at sam’s or something. then take them where you please, when they say yes.”

“you think they’ll say yes?” your grin returned at the thought of it.

“mhm, imma head off.” ace nodded as to say goodbye, wanting to put a distance between you both as soon as possible.

“wait wait—” you grabbed his wrist, panickedly, “i won’t get the chance to request an audience at sam’s if you run off..”

“you want moral support?”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, “no, think more… outside the box, as they say.”

a mess when he puts the dots together. during last block before dismissal, what you were implying clicked. the thought of it made focusing near impossible.

best believe he was the first one out of class and was early to meet you at sam’s.

still, any person that approached the shop gave him a sense of nervousness that he may have misread the situation.

“oh my.. i invited you here and you got here before me. were you waiting long?” you placed your bag on the table ace was seated out, desperately searching for the courage you had this morning.

“just ask me.” had deuce not slipped up about ace’s reciprocated feelings, you would’ve misinterpreted his glare for anger.

sheepishly you chuckled, “wh— uh, well… if you know what im gonna ask, why don’t you just answer?”

not that he’d admit, he wanted to hear it from you but this’ll do for now. confirming his suspicions, his cold gaze melted to a warmer one. one you preferred more than the former.

JAMIL VIPER

much like ace, he thinks worst case scenario. i mean, what are you supposed to think when your best friend asks for ‘boy advice.’ but once you clarify, he still couldn’t be more confused.

while he wanted to recommend focusing on school, he wasn’t completely sure if he wanted it for your success or his selfish hope.

withholding his thoughts, he recalled what he remembered the romance movies his sister would watch at home, as if they were realistic.

it wasn’t his intention to give you the worst advice possible, he just didn’t know what else to tell you.

maybe asking jamil for dating advice while he was on an unstable ladder, helping you polish one of the many dusty lightbulbs in ramshackle wasn’t the smartest idea.

he almost fell and hurt himself because of the mini heart attack you caused him.

“ow.” he sighed, grabbing his ankle.

in a rush you went to grab him an ice pack, apologizing profusely, “where does it hurt?”

jamil studied your expression as you put pressure on his ankle with the ice pack, still going on with apologizes.

it was times like this that made him think that your feelings were for him, but it could be a misunderstanding on his part.

“who is he?”

you looked up at him, confused.

“it will affect my answer.” he sighed.

“oh.. i, uh. you can’t know.” you pulled back, awkwardly.

the silence held an unfamiliar undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

jamil struggled to his feet, looking anywhere but you, “i’ll head off now, i’ll take the necessary herbs to prevent swelling. thank you for your time.”

the rest happens over text, late into the night. yes, he was still thinking about it then.

when you used the advice on him, he thought you meant to text someone else (something kalim does often.)

he’s very relieved, in the end. don’t let him forget how nervous he was when you originally asked, though.

the brightness of your lock screen lit up your dark room with a ‘ping!’ you didn’t know how to react to the message you reviewed this late into the night.

jamil: just ask him.

after a few deleted messages, you managed to ask him why he was still up before placing your phone back down.

jamil: can’t sleep.

____: wanna call??

jamil: i cant

[ you reacted with a ‘?’ ]

____: is smth wrong why are u being so dry wtf ??

____: don’t leave me on read.

____: i need to call u to tell u smth

____: oh come on

____: fine i like u

[ you blocked this number ]

not even ten minutes later, you could hear the clicking of pebbles against your window.

you peeked out and were greeted by the vice house warden. quickly your grabbed a paper, scribbling something on it and taping it on there.

were you petty for taping ‘Read at 11:28PM’ on your window? yes. would you get scolded for it tomorrow? yes. but it’s worth it.

FLOYD LEECH

funny enough, he was just asking jade for advice on making you take a hint. you don’t understand how badly jade wanted to snitch, but your conversation was already so awkward, it hurt enough.

definitely tried to put on the ‘heartthrob’ act, only making it cheesier than necessary. he didn’t really give you any advice, more of like reasons you should date him instead.

he hadn’t a doubt it was him you wanted to ask out, but he wanted to seal the deal (if that makes sense.)

“hey, shrimpy!” floyd waved enthusiastically at the sight of you.

a smirk made its way on jade face as he greeted you, “y/n. can i get you anything?”

“no, i’m alright. thank you, jade.” you turned towards the other, “i wanted you— i need to speak with you.”

ignoring the ‘he’s already yours’ from jade, floyd whisked you off to talk in a more private setting.

“what’s up?” he asked, using your shoulder as an armrest.

you looked up at him nervously, “i was wondering, say.. well, actually let me ask; have you ever had a crush before?”

“yeah, you.” he replied nonchalantly.

your face became warm at the thought of the different implications the statement held, choosing the safest one. “me? well, yes i have as well. or i do, present tense.”

“what are you talking about, shrimpy? i didn’t ask anything.” he returned.

“nevermind. i just wanted to ask will you—”

“yes.” he teased once more.

“no.” you nervous gaze turned into one of irritation. “will you give me advice for asking someone on a date, romantically.”

for the first time, the eel was genuinely surprised. “it’s not me?”

while you weren’t a liar, you couldn’t admit to it yet. you’re plan did backfire, but you’d be sure to have the last laugh.

when you went to thank jade for his words of wisdom, you didn’t notice his twin behind you. the amount of teasing you received made you regret going through with it.

bragged to azul and jade nonstop about it later, honestly, as he should.

“what is that i hear, shrimpy?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice.

jade let out a chuckle, prompting you to toss your napkin at him.

“hey, floyd! long time no see.” you waved awkwardly.

floyd slid into the booth seat across from you, “did you seriously ask my brother for advice on asking me out?”

“like you didn’t do the same.” jade glared, “kicking me won’t shut me up.”

“anyways, have i told you how adorable you are, shrimpy?”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst fluff #ace trappola #ace x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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dyns33 · 6 months ago

Text

Only Wastelands part 3

The people have spoken ! Viva the Ghoul ! Feo fuerte y formal. And since I'm all three of that, I'll give you part 3 and not a new story.

Just, be patient, it will be a longer series than even I expected. I think 5 or 6 parts.

Tag : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25 @darkangel4121 @avidreadee123 @kaitttttttt @nullx1ety

It was now official, Y/N was the unluckiest person in all of the wastelands.

The only thing she had always wanted since she came out of her hole was to survive, for as long as possible, having to do as little harm as possible, and staying all alone, far from creatures, people, Cooper and Vault Tech.

Henry MacLean's smile clearly indicated his pre-atomization work. Smooth talking, manipulating, complimenting and lying to get what he wanted.

No doubt he was considered gifted at the time, but Lucy's father didn't seem to have fully understood that the rules had changed and those who remained had adapted.

He needed a guide and a bodyguard to get to a high-security shelter. Like his daughter, he had a keen eye, he had spotted her as she was about to leave New Vegas, and her pitboy had left him thinking that they were part of the same side.

Y/N would have told him that she only had one side, hers, but she was smart enough to keep a neutral face while he spoke to her. Were all the inhabitants of the Vault so damn talkative ?

"If you come with me, if you help me, I can guarantee you a special place in a wonderful vault. You will be safe, fed, with water, clothes, a bed. It's a good deal, right ?”

“And what makes you think they’ll welcome you with open arms ?”

The question seemed to confuse him for a moment, then he put on his fake smile again, pretending that everything would be fine and that his friends wouldn't let him down.

Either he was totally stupid or he was deluding himself. Hope took a long time to die here.

In any case, even if the deal was tempting, everything was against accepting it. Because she couldn't trust Henry and Vault, because she didn't want to go back underground, because Cooper was looking for this guy and her primery goal was to never see the Ghoul again.

The problem was the armor. Now that he had spotted her and considered her to be his best means of reaching his destination, MacLean was not going to let her go so easily.

He could shoot her if she tried to flee, and he would be hard to kill with his protection. Coop had told her about a malfunction, but Y/N wasn't sure where it was.

To continue to survive, it was therefore wiser to follow MacLean, returning his smile, waiting for the ideal moment to disappear. But the man was not as stupid as he seemed, and he refused to sleep, never leaving her side.

Still less clever than Lucy, he did not connect their pitboys.

When they arrived at his destination, Y/N was sure that this was the end. Vault Tech was made up of assholes, so they were going to kill their dear employee, or they were going to leave him out, and most certainly, they were going to kill her.

But no. In their hypocritical pretense of saviors of humanity, the doors were opened and they were received as nobles.

It would be a lie to say that Y/N didn't appreciate the hot shower she was able to take in her private room. The first in years. She savored the food, she resisted jumping on the bed like a child, and she cried a bit while watching TV, showing scenes of the life before, lost forever.

And after a presentation on community life in the shelters, a movie. An old Western film. With the main star, Cooper Howard.

Y/N had never seen his movies. She had seen the posters, she had heard of the actor, he appeared in Vault ads until his divorce and the accusations of communism.

More serious than in the picture he had given her, quite ridiculous with his fringed suit, he gave a moral lesson to his enemy, saying that killing was wrong. Ah, Coop would die laughing if he heard that now.

This thought made her a little sad. Y/N was mad at him, and at the same time she put herself in his boots.

He had been betrayed by his ex-wife, he had been separated from his daughter, he had transformed into a sort of zombie, still conscious thanks to medication but in danger of losing his mind at any moment, wandering for eternity in the wastelands, where he could be killed, insulted, or see those he took the risk of loving die in front of him.

Maybe he had loved her at one time. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that this man on the screen hadn't disappeared, he was just hurt, bruised, and wanting to protect himself. So it was normal that he didn't want to keep a burden like her any longer.

She had to keep the good memories.

His laugh, the time they danced together in a ruined dinner, his arm around her as she slept on his shoulder.

When he called her a fucking pet, a good ribbance, no one he cared about.

It was a bit out of boredom, and mostly thinking about her next move, that Y/N hacked into the vault's system, to look at their little secrets and get useful information, like where the food was stored and how to get out without being spotted.

She didn't expect to see the name Howard. Barbara and Janey Howard.

Obviously she had fallen into the main, original, most important Vault, which brought together people deemed to be priorities such as the president of the country, the president of Vault Tech, their advisors and their families.

He wasn't as important, and that's why he'd been placed elsewhere, but Henry had been loyal, and he could tell them about the state of the outside world, so they'd let him in. Y/N’s fate was still to be determined.

Leaving now, stealing supplies and waiting for nightfall would have been easy for her. The best thing to do.

But Y/N had often imagined this little girl, adored by her father. Cooper didn't talk about her often, his voice shaking whenever he mentioned Janey. His little Janey.

No doubt he would be here soon, he could get her back himself. But what if he couldn't do it ? What if he was killed trying ? What if the little girl was killed because, thinking she wasn't there, he blew everything up ?

It was not stated whether Barbara was still alive. Y/N didn’t really care. This woman could use her status as a mother all she wanted to justify her actions, what she had done was abominable.

At her request, Janey had been put to sleep, and she was not to be awakened until the outside was perfectly safe and sound, and then the world would be hers.

It was impossible to tell whether that was a good thing or not, whether it wouldn't have been better if she had simply grown up in the Vault after the explosion, or if she hadn't survived to never see all this.

But it was not the time for useless questions like this. Not anymore. Using all her knowledge and discretion, Y/N sneaked up to the cryonyzation chambers.

One thing was certain, Janey was her father's daughter. She had his look, stubborn and clever like him, immediately wary of this stranger who asked her to follow her. Her parents had often told her not to follow people she didn't know.

"Hold on." Y/N said kindly as she took out the photo Cooper had given her. "Look. Your dad gave her to me. He told me a lot about you. His favorite cowgirl. He's looking for you everywhere."

That wasn't entirely true. He had looked for her everywhere. Despair had slowed his motivation a bit after a hundred years.

"Daddy ? You know where my daddy is ?"

"Yes. I'll take you to see him, all right ?"

Her smile. Even the sun was not as radiant as the smile of this little girl, who jumped into her arms, happy to be able to find her daddy.

Y/N would later think about how she didn't want to find the father, and that Janey would be in for a bit of a shock if they ended up meeting him.

After all, Cooper had changed, physically and mentally. It wasn't going to be so easy to explain to her that he had had health problems, but that it was really him, without a nose, with charred skin, yellow teeth, and blood on his hands.

Children were rare in the wastelands. It wasn't a place for them, people weren't crazy enough to procreate. Some could no longer do so, because of the radiation. And the little ones often left very early, for various reasons, both sad and horrible.

She no longer really remembered how to behave around a child, nor how a child behave. For the moment, the little girl was calm, holding her hand as she followed her out of the shelter.

But she might be scared outside. Not obeying, walking too slowly, shouting. Oh, she shouldn't scream, that would attract all the raiders and deathclaws in the area. And if something happened to her, then after three years, the Ghoul would finally come for Y/N.

Just, not to save her.

"It's very dangerous out there. Okay, Janey ?" she explained, kneeling down in front of the little girl to look her in the eyes. "You're going to have to be brave, and do everything I say. Can you do that ?"

"Yes."

"You promise me ? It really wouldn't be easy."

“We cowpokes take it as it comes.” Janey said proudly, her smile as adorable as ever, but her expression showing her seriousness. She understood well.

"Alright. So, don't make a sound. You stay calm, you stay close to me unless I tell you to hide, and you wait for me to come get you."

“And we’re going to see my daddy ?”

"… Yes. We're going to see your dad. We just have to… He loves you a lot, he's been a little sick."

“I’ll give him a kiss so he can heal.”

"We'll see about that. I have Radaway. I'm going to open the door, and I'm going to carry you, because there's a chance the turrets will shoot at us. Don't scream, hold on tight and trust me."

Janey continued to smile, giving a thumbs up. She may not have understood everything after all, but that was normal at her age.

Her little hands would squeeze tighter when they were outside, the heat and putrid air beating down on them, but she didn't make a sound, her head in her neck, while Y/N ran as fast as possible away from here, taking cover, dodging gunfire and ignoring alarms.

In the desert, you couldn't stop until you were sure you were alone, hidden by the night. Then they could sit down, drink a bit, and look at the direction they had to take.

And looking at the map of her pitboy, where Lucy MacLean's exact location was flashing happily, Y/N sighed, adjusting Janey against her so she was sleeping in a comfortable position, knowing full well where she needed to go.

It was time to face her demons.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 10 months ago

Text

“If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Humor, Shameless Smut (I got carried away), Cameo Appearance by Soft!Dom Dean, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 4200

You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.

Full Dean Meltdown

Neither one of you have had to use it – until you get a text from Sam. A case has gone all kinds of awful for Dean. You are not ready for the version of Dean you have to face in the aftermath.

Notes: This is total self-indulgence because I miss This Dean.

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Hair Pulling" square.

Image created in Canva (links for photos used - found on Google: Jensen Ackles, Liverpool Comic Con, 2023; Jensen Ackles Photo Shoot

You stare, mid-muffin chew, at Sam’s text.

“Fuck me.” A few stray crumbs and a rogue blueberry land on a page of lore you should probably be more careful with. But you can’t be bothered with MOL reference handling procedures at the moment.

This is Red Alert. Defcon 5. Designated Survivor Mode Activated.

You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.

Full Dean Meltdown

“Fuck.” There’s no point in continuing to curse to yourself. “Fuck.” But you can’t help it. Neither one of you has ever had to use it before. You’d come close a few times.

The book is forgotten, pushed to the side on the table surface. Your fingers glide over the phone’s keyboard.

Is he alright?!? What happened? Please, tell me this is a joke?

I wouldn’t joke about this. Sam’s words bubble up, line by line. Well, I made the mistake of joking right after it happened. It’s gotten progressively worse the entire drive back. He hasn’t said a single word since we got in the car. IDK what’s gonna happen.

“Fuck.”

Should I evacuate? How much time do I have?

Just pulled into the garage.

Shit, Sam! Do you not understand how a code word for disaster preparedness works? One needs enough time to actually prepare for the disaster!

You wait. More bubbles. Then nothing. Maybe Sam didn’t make it out alive. Maybe you should make a run for it through the war room and up the stairs. Save yourself.

I received some communication. He’s headed straight for the showers. Meet you in the lab.

“A what?”

“Musca.” Sam sighs. “Ever seen ‘The Fly’?”

“On cable years ago, filtered through my fingers.”

Sam continues. “They secrete this sticky goo to build a nest.” His mouth crinkles. “Dean landed in it.”

“The nest?” you ask.

“The goo. A puddle of the stuff. Monster fluids freak him out.”

You shiver in disgust at the thought. “Fuck creature feature fluids. 100% in agreement.”

“So, we tracked the musca to its hideout in an abandoned factory. We split up when we got inside…”

“Why do you always split up?” you ask, following it with a frustrated groan.

Sam purses his lips and then proceeds. “When I found him, he was basically glued to this massive conveyor belt holding the goo like it was a kiddie pool. I had to cut him out of most of his clothes to free him.”

The thought of a half-naked Dean has you shiver for other reasons. “Poor guy,” you add in an effort to express sympathy over your dirty thoughts.

Sam chuckles.

You straighten with worry Sam has figured out your crush on his brother. Ready to dispute any yearnings, you add a grumbly edge to your voice and the question. “What was funny about any of that?”

Sam fists long strands on the right side of his scalp high in the air. “Even his hair got stuck to the belt. I had to hack half of it off.” He fingers his bangs back into effortless waves. “Once we killed it, Dean mumbled, ‘Vidal Sassoon you ain’t, fucker.’”

You shrug, confused. “Well, I mean, I get the trauma from the nasty gnat excretions. But that doesn’t explain why you had to warn of a possible Dean disaster.”

Sam’s gaze tears from yours to stare at the floor by his boots.

“Sam?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I might have said something like, ‘We can’t all be masterful hunters with glorious locks.’”

You frown. “Sam…”

Sam raises a hand in defense. “Hey, maybe now he’ll finally shut up about my hair being a liability. I mean, hello, I’ve still got mine.”

The temptation to knock on Dean’s bedroom door is great. But you refrain, hiding away in yours instead. He’ll be better in the morning, you decide. Especially if you fry up some bacon.

A light rap of knuckles against mahogany distracts you from the latest show binge on your laptop. You pause the action. “Yeah?”

“Got a minute?” Even with the question, Dean’s tone sounds like a command.

You gulp. “Sure.” Rotating in the seat, your hand grips the top of the backrest. You’ll try to hold the line against the Dean Winchester Offensive.

The door swings slowly on its hinges. Dean slinks into your space. It’s the opposite of his usual bluster and humorous bellows that lead to inevitable laughter on your end. His slippers shuffle along the tile. He’s wearing roomy sweats and a dark t-shirt that hugs his torso. A folded towel is wedged into the crook of his arm.

Your brain locks onto two things that appear off about Dean. The first thing totally out of place on the masterpiece before you is the baseball cap.

In the next second, you remember why he’s wearing it. It’s not because he’s undercover as a delivery driver or Fish and Wildlife Game Warden.

Dean does not want you to see his hair in its current state.

The second thing makes your pulse quicken. His beard is… gone. You can’t remember the last time you saw him even close to clean-shaven. You forgot what that sharp jawline used to do to your insides.

“Hey.” You don your best don’t-let-on-to-anything smile.

Dean scrutinizes you as if you are a witness in his rapid-fire way and then huffs. “Son of a bitch told you, didn’t he?”

You decide not to remind Dean he and Sam share the same mother. “He did. I’m sorry. You okay?”

The door clicks shut. “I’ll live. Sam might not see the light of day, though.”

You ignore the murder threat, instead focusing on a new scent in the air. You sniff, nostrils flaring with the deep inhale. Dean smells like he’s working on an amazing beach tan.

He nods at your reaction. “Coconut Oil. I had to use all that was in the kitchen for…” He circles his lower body with a finger and eventually points to the baseball cap.

“Did it do the trick?”

“Better than I hoped. I even got all that nasty shit out of my hair.” His weight shifts from one foot to the other. “But I need a favor.”

“At your disposal.” Still seated, you somersault your hand as if addressing royalty.

That at least cracks a tiny smile into his serious veneer. “I had to take a razor to my hair and cut it pretty short. Can you clean me up in the back?”

You clutch your chest and gasp in the most dramatic fashion you can muster. “You trust me to touch your hair?”

“I trust you with my life, wiseass.” Dean smirks. “Can the sass and help a guy out, would ya?”

A warmth blossoms in your heart at Dean’s words. The heat spreads to your skin. You wave a hand at the towel and clear your throat. “Those the accouterments?”

Dean quirks a brow and grins. “Croutons?”

“And you call me the wiseass.” You sigh.

He shrugs with a nod in agreement. He drops the towel on the desk and lifts one of the corners to reveal the electric razor inside.

“Okay. Here’s as good a place as any, I suppose.” You rise from your seat, close the laptop, and move it to your dresser.

“You sure? We can go to the bathroom.” He thumbs at the door.

You wave a hand at the chair you vacated, now standing behind it. “Here’s good.”

Dean sits. The wooden chair creaks.

“Towel.”

Dean grabs the razor before passing the towel. You flap the fabric, channel your inner toreador, and let it billow over Dean’s frame like a sail. When it settles, you wrap and tuck it into the back of the collar.

Moments like this are pure indulgence. Getting within close proximity of Dean years ago left your brain unable to process the simplest tasks. Breathing. Blinking. Talking. Eventually, you got a handle on your senses. Now, you could treat yourself to the experience of him on occasion in a myriad of ways. No one had to be the wiser that the mundane helped create many fantasies.

“Razor.”

Dean chuckles, presenting you with the razor over his shoulder. “It’s not surgery.”

“Hey, appreciate the seriousness with which I’m embracing this endeavor.” You step to his left. “Dean?”

He lifts his head to peer up from under the brim of his cap. “Yeah?” His blinks emphasize the question.

All that does is force you to focus on his pretty lashes and the eye color he’s daring you to try and describe in your head. The cheekbones and the manicured five o’clock shadow aren’t helping matters either. You swallow and remember what’s supposed to happen next. “Can’t do much with that hat on your head.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighs. “Just, no laughing, alright?”

You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze softly in confirmation. “No laughing. Promise.”

Dean exhales. You suck in your lips and hold your breath. He closes his eyes and peels the cap off.

You stare dumbfounded.

“Say whatever you gotta say,” Dean mumbles with scrunched features and shut lids.

Your vision clouds. Heart races. “It’s…”

“Awful,” he interrupts.

“Perfect,” you whisper.

Eyes open at the word. His gaze shoots up to meet yours. “Huh?”

Gone are the 90s dreamboat bangs he’s been growing out and tending to since 2020. In their place are a couple of directionless inches that need gel after the scrubbing, clipping, and hat matting. The Musca goo must have done most of its damage around the sides and back. In those areas, he’s shaved it short and close, done his best to fashion a fade that you imagine was muscle memory for him even after all these years. You eye the spot at the base of his skull that needs to be cleaned and tapered.

You’re blinking, fighting back tears, utterly speechless.

Dean stares, total confusion lining his face. “Are you crying? Why the hell are you crying?” He taps the top of his head. “Shit… is it that fucking of a fiasco?”

“No.” You cover your mouth at the possibility a nervous laugh might spill out, which will only irritate him further. Moments pass as you struggle to steady your breath.

“Well, what the hell is it then?”

Dropping the hand covering your mouth, you beam down at him. “It’s you.” You could care less about what you were supposed to do with the razor in your hand. Instead, you perch your ass against the desk so you can lean back and take him in.

Dean’s eyes widen. You’ve seen that look of concern many times. “Yeeaaah. It’s me. Who else would it be? Do I need to get Sam?”

Your head shakes in amazement at the vision. “I haven’t seen this Dean since… damn, since before the pandemic. Since you and Sam made that bet, remember?”

“Gonna have to be a little more specific. Sam and I make lots of bets.”

“The one about you being unable to resist the temptation to take a razor to your hair during lockdown. I don’t even remember what the stakes were.”

Dean contemplates. “Hm. I haven’t got a clue. That was like, what, four years ago.” His lids shade the dark green of his irises. “This Dean?”

You nod. Your breath hitches at the swell of emotions rising. “The guy I first met.”

Dean shifts in the chair and leans forward. Every furrow and crinkle on his face melts away. His eyes appear to double in size as he waits for you to continue.

“My hero.” The whisper is a physical manifestation of how vulnerable and exposed you feel at Dean’s silent interrogation method. You press on. “The one that risked his life to save me… forever ago.”

He lifts one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. “Sam was there, too, you know.”

You laugh. Cheeks warm at the adorably smug reaction. “Yes, you’re right. He was.”

Dean shakes his head. “Sam’s had the exact same haircut for years. I don’t see you crying every time you lay eyes on him. He’s a walking reminder of the guy you first met.”

“But he’s not you.” In your haste to provide an explanation, you realize you’ve said too much.

Dean’s mouth opens a fraction. His brows downturn. He’s working it out in his head in real-time.

You’re terrified.

A new smile forms. You think you spot a blush on his cheeks. “What else do you remember about this Dean?”

You shrug and tear your gaze from his. You don’t want your words to betray you again.

“Hm.” Dean rambles off a laundry list. “A lot of brooding back then, wasn’t there? I was a really good brooder. Hard to figure out? Distant, too, right? Definitely knew what was best for everybody. Stubborn jackass.”

You remain silent.

“Okay, still a stubborn jackass.”

You giggle. He joins in with a chuckle. Your anxiety eases and you find courage to look at him again.

“We’ve all changed in different ways, I guess. You, for example.” Dean gestures in your direction.

You stiffen. This could go many ways. You aren’t ready for any of them.

“You don’t take any of my shit, for one.” He raises a finger. “You're confident. You speak your mind. You have a life outside of these bunker walls.” Four fingers are on display for a while. He smiles and elongates his thumb. “But you still make this your home.”

“Every second of the life I’m able to live is because of you guys. I owe you everything. I’m lucky you let me make this my home.” You reason.

Dean’s smile drops. The open palm clenches into a fist and rests on his thigh. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“You and Sam did all that for me without batting an eye. You didn’t expect anything in return. You and Sam gave me so much more than I could ever repay. You gave me a second chance. You gave me a home.” You shrug and smile. “You became my home.”

He studies the floor and smirks, stating more to himself, “Not the only long-standing bet I’ve lost to Sam today.” Dean inhales and sits tall, focusing back on you. He nods, slow and calculated. “So, perfect, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get a big head.”

“A little late for that.” He grins and reclines back. “Would you go so far as to say this Dean” – he sweeps his hands in front of his figure in a dramatic gesture – “is irresistible?”

You exhale. “I don’t know if I’d say irresistible.”

He licks his lips. “Whew. Well, that’s good. I mean, otherwise, you’d have the same problem I have.”

You drop the razor on the desk and cross your hands over your chest. “What problem would that be?”

A heated gaze, beginning at your socked feet, rakes over you with his answer. “How much I find every fucking thing about you irresistible. You could shave your head and wear a potato sack, and I’d still have to keep my feelings in check.” You're practically on fire by the time his eyes lock with yours. “Every goddamn second of every day I’m around you.”

“This would be one of those times I don’t take any of your shit,” you scoff and squint back.

It’s his turn to clutch his hand to his chest. “You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’re having a little too much fun at the expense of my soul-baring.”

“Wanna bet?”

Dean’s voiced that question countless times. Tonight, though, certainty laces his words.

He seems to take your silence as the only needed response. “Kiss me.”

“Wh-hat?”

“If you think you can resist, kiss me, and it’s a one-and-done.” His brows lift. “But if you can’t… Well, I might not leave this room anytime soon.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wager. More like a dare.” You straighten your stance. “Besides, you’re assuming…”

He grumbles out an interruption, “Sounds like somebody’s stalling.”

Your mouth snaps shut.

“Maybe we both take the armor off for a night. Take a chance on something that could be awesome.” Dean posits. His hands rub the cloth atop his thighs. “I can make it awesome.” The tone is low and promising. “If it helps, I’m this Dean tonight. We can worry about that Dean tomorrow.” He smiles, reaches a hand out to you, and nods in encouragement.

He’s struggling to play it cool, keep his emotions in check. You’ve seen this Dean before. He’s inhaling and exhaling fast through his nose. His jaw clenches and it cracks your resolve even further.

You drop your shield and let this Dean win you over.

You melt, wrapping your fingers over his. This Dean’s touch electrifies every cell and awakens every dormant hope you had put to rest. He tugs you into his space. His lead forces the parting of your legs in order for his thigh to slot between. You hover. Your chin drops to your chest while his chin tips up high to hold your gaze. His body heat pulses off him like a vibrational energy. “Kiss me.” It’s the sweetest and softest request you’ve ever heard this Dean utter.

Your fingers trace along the freshly shaved hair over his right ear. It’s slippery and smooth in one direction, scritch-scratchy in the other. You can study every battle scar on this handsome canvas. No bangs of curtains or overgrown beard can hide them from you now.

His lips part and release a deep sigh. Your fingers slip down his neck. Warm hands rest on the curve of your hips.

“I won’t be able to resist you,” you whisper.

“Good,” he hums. He’s guiding you with a firm grip to straddle his thigh. Then, there’s an encouraging push with a large palm and splayed fingers against the middle of your back. The sweet smell of coconut hits. Your gaze zones onto that bowed top lip. The way the plump bottom one parts from it to grant entrance.

Dean huffs an impatient groan you are all too familiar with. “You don’t kiss me in the next five seconds, I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” you tease.

“More like a warning.” His voice is gruff and deep.

You hold back a moan at the sound, then dip down and do as you’re told.

Everything about the kiss is eager and rushed. Together you’re a tangle of limbs and fever pitch need. You’re pressed tight and right to his body - all muscle-tense and trigger-ready. His lips respond in kind to your every brush, swipe, and nudge for more and more.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he murmurs through the kiss.

You gasp in satisfaction at the intention.

His lips skim to your jaw, under your ear, then down your neck. “I gotta know that’s what you want.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Another hum thrums against your skin. You shiver as fingers creep under the hem of your t-shirt. His nose nuzzles along the frayed v-neck collar. He cups your breasts under the fabric. A thumb and finger twists one of your nipples even more erect. Teeth scraping and tongue lapping over the other fabric-covered nipple draw a strained moan out of your throat.

Soon the shirt is tugged hastily over your head for removal. Then you feel his mouth and hands all over your breasts again, unencumbered.

You’re a panting, heaving mess riding his thigh like you’re on an X-rated carousel. You arch your chest into his face. He’s slurping and sucking your nerve endings into the stratosphere. He pops a tit out of his mouth long enough to order, “Yeah, come for me so I can fuck that nice wet pussy.”

Dean staring at you, commanding you to come for him, is the tipping point you need to orgasm hard and fast.

“Yeah.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and clamps his mouth to yours. “Gonna feel so good around my cock.” He steals every gasp of air you expel with his inhales.

You’re tingling all over. He peels you off his thigh to sandwich his standing body to yours. He towers over you. He’s stiff and erect in his sweats, pressed into your lower tummy. His hands sweep up and down the channel of your spine.

“This Dean’s got a lot to make up for.” His tongue licks at your lips. “But I gotta be inside you right now.”

You nod. “You got five seconds to get me naked and on that bed.”

Never let it be said that Dean Winchester is not up for a challenge.

The chair behind him is now careening towards the bedroom door on all four legs. You scream-giggle as he lifts you into the air while he twirls, then tosses you onto the mattress, bouncing at the impact.

The sound of the chair crashing and toppling into a corner does nothing to distract you from watching Dean tunnel out of his t-shirt, kick off his slippers, and hopscotch out of his pants and boxers. His hard, thick cock springs to attention.

Fuck. You want every inch of that deep inside you.

He hooks his fingers onto the hem of your pants and manages to pull your socks off along with them. Kneeing onto the bed, he croons, “Been wanting you for so long, baby.”

Your head falls back into the cushion of the mattress, woozy from Dean’s actions and confession. “Probably been wanting you longer.”

Your panties are off and tossed over his shoulder next. “You don’t gotta wait anymore.” He grips under your knees and drags you to him. He slides over the wet heat of your folds and hisses, “Wanna fuck you without a condom.”

You whimper, “Just fuck me already.”

He smiles, grabs his cock – that must be fitted with a pussy homing device – and pistons into your entrance without any further mother fucking ado.

You gasp at the searing heat and sharp pain of him stretching you open. But he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s minding how your facial features accept the brunt of each thrust and the agonizing slow release of his cock. Over and over. His descent is just as slow as he fucks. But eventually, your legs clamp around his waist and he wraps you in an embrace. Chests plastered together, moaning into each other’s mouths.

Your fingers inch into what remains of his bangs. You pull at the hair and Dean groans out, “Yeah.”

It’s lovely and languid for however long you both have the patience. The feel of him everywhere and inside is something you don’t ever want to end. But there’s a second orgasm building. The thought of Dean spilling into you has your walls clench in impatience around his cock.

“Fuck,” he grunts, face tucked along your neck. You lift your head up to enjoy the view of his undulating back and curvy ass clenching and raising as his fucking gains momentum. You pull at his hair again. “Fuuuck.”

He stills, turns to stone, and you feel his cock pulse and warmth spill inside. Moments later, a hand wedges between your bodies to thumb your clit and trigger your second orgasm.

You cry out his name.

“I got you, baby,” Dean whispers into your ear. And he does. Not letting go and practically swaddling you with his body. The sexiest weighted blanket on the planet.

You smile and stroke – instead of pulling – at his hair. “Who’s got me exactly? This Dean or That Dean?”

He sighs, sounding winded. “You get all the versions. Whether you like it or not.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He leans back to stare at you. “Yeah?” He’s red and flushed and the happiest you’ve ever seen him. “Even if I grow my hair out again?”

You nod. “Yeah. More for me to pull.”

Dean groans and flops to his back beside you, chuckling.

You listen to the rhythm of your collective breathing slow down and regulate. His fingers brush along the flesh of your thigh. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Earlier, you said something about losing two bets to Sam today. What was the other one?”

“Asshole told me you had a thing for me years ago. Let’s hold off on telling him he was right, or I’m doing his laundry for an entire year.”

“I don’t think we have to tell him anything, Dean. I’m pretty sure he heard everything.”

“Hm. You’re right.” He’s up on an elbow, staring down at you. “Maybe text him that code thing? That might get him out of the bunker for a while.”

You blink. “Code?”

“Don’t play coy now.” Dean shakes his head. “But what’s the ‘66’ mean?”

You bite your lip.

He waits.

“It was Sam’s idea.”

He waits.

“The 66 Seals.”

Dean cringes.

You shrug. “Too soon?”

“And he says I have a twisted sense of humor.” Dean yawns. He finds the edge of the comforter you both are lying atop and tosses it over your naked bodies. “So, will you still clean me up in the back? Maybe wait until morning, though?”

“Absolutely.” You snuggle into his chest, secure that Dean will wake up next to you in the morning. “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.”

It takes a beat before Dean responds with a teasing smack to the back of your head, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Wiseass.”

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic

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vioartemis · 2 years ago

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One last time

(Tara Carpenter x fem! Bridger! reader)

Summary: Amber and Richie planned on framing Sam and you for the 2022 massacre, as you were both daughters of past Ghostfaces. Only thing; the fans never get a happy end. Neither do you. Request is here :)) a/n: This is pretty short I'm sorry I couldn't come up with anything else 😭 Warnings: blood, injuries, death (reader), angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

“Imagine the headlines tomorrow: ‘Billy Loomis’ daughter went mad and killed her friends with the help of her accomplice, Roman Bridger’s daughter! The two wanted to pursue the legacy of their fathers.’ Now that’s what we want to see!” Amber said, holding a knife to your throat

Your little group was gathered in the kitchen of her house after Richie and her tried to kill you and exposed their plan.

“What are you talking about? Roman died in 2000, he doesn’t have a daughter.” Sidney said

“No one here is his daughter!” Tara yelled

Richie turned to you with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, you didn’t tell her did you? I thought you would’ve, when Sam confessed being Billy’s daughter”

All eyes were on you.

“Fuck you.” you spat at him

“Y/n…? He’s wrong right…? You’re not…” you gave Tara a guilty look “Oh my god… why didn’t you tell me…?”

“Because… because I didn’t want to lose you… I was scared you would leave me if you knew…!”

“How am I supposed to trust you…? You lied to me for more than two years! Two fucking years Y/n! How can I know you’re telling the truth? Maybe you’re with them. Maybe-“

“Don’t say that…” you started to tear up “Please don’t say that…”

She looked away from you, like she couldn't bear to see you again. That broke your heart.

Lying to your own girlfriend for two years hurt you too. You wanted to tell her, you tried multiple times. But every time the words got stuck in your throat.

“Ow sorry, I think we messed up your relationship…” Amber smirked at you

You didn’t think about her knife still on your throat and punched her in the face. No one saw it coming.

Sidney took this opportunity to take a kitchen knife and attacked Richie, too focused on you to defend himself.

Everyone started fighting everyone. It was a messy fight; everyone was a little confused by your sudden punch at Amber.

You tried to protect Tara from the fights, pushing her away when Richie tried to stab her. They made her question your relationship? Fine. You would make them pay for that. But the most important thing was keeping her safe.

At one moment, you got thrown against the counter. You got up quickly, but Amber was now ready to shoot you. When she pulled the trigger, Tara screamed.

“Aw come on, I’m like two meters away how can you miss such an easy shot?” you smirked at the killer

“Oh you…”

She was ready to try again, but Sidney slammed the hand sanitizer on her head, making her drop the gun.

Immediately you tried to take it, but Gale looked at you with suspicious eyes.

“Right, you don’t trust me”

You backed up, letting her take the gun.

Amber tried to explain herself and convince Gale not to shoot her, but she did it anyway. The girl fell on the stove and lit up.

“Holly shit…” you let out as she burned and fell on the floor

A scream was heard, coming from the hall. Everyone got out of the kitchen and ran to the hall, ready to help.

On your way there, you grabbed Sidney’s gun that slid into a corner earlier. Just in case.

When you arrived, Sam was standing in front of Richie’s dead body, covered in blood. She didn’t need help after all.

“Careful, they always come back” Gale said

Sam took the gun from her and shot Richie in the head.

You all sighed in relief, until you heard a scream behind you. Amber was still alive and was running toward you knife in hand.

Your body reacted before your brain could process what was happening. You shot her in the head before she could hurt anyone else.

“Y/n…” Tara said, next to you

“I know, I took the gun. I’m sorry, here” you drop it “I’m not with them I-“

“No you’re bleeding!”

“Hm?” you looked down. There was blood on your jeans. “Oh… yeah… I forgot about that…”

You were too focused on Tara’s well being you completely forgot about your own wounds. Multiple wounds.

You placed a hand on your stomach. It came back stained with blood. Your black shirt made it difficult to see you were bleeding.

All of a sudden, you collapsed on the floor, all your strength leaving you.

“Shit…” you groaned as the pain grew

Tara knelt beside you, concern written on her face. She lifted your shirt up to see where your were hurt. Three stab wounds and one bullet hole.

“When did you-“

The fight flashed before her eyes. When Richie was about to stab her you protected her. Three times. Then Amber tired to shoot you.

“You said she missed…!”

“Maybe I lied…”

You started coughing, blood coming out of your chest and mouth. Your girlfriend tried to stop the bleeding, applying pressure on your wounds.

"Sam call an ambulance!" she yelled at her sister before turning back to you "Y/n I'm sorry I told you that earlier... I didn't mean it I swear..."

"I know, I know..." you smiled weakly, putting a hand on her cheek and wiping her tears gently "It's okay my love... please don't cry... I want to see your smile one last time..."

"W-what do you mean 'one last time'...?"

"You can't save me Tara..."

"No no no no no..."

"C'mon... smile for me, my pretty girl..."

She held back her tears and cracked a weak smile.

"I love you so much..." you whispered, still smilling

"I love you too..."

You closed your eyes for a second, the light hurting you.

"Y/n...?" your arm fell slowly "Hey..." she shook you slightly "Baby please... Y/n...! Please wake up...! Don't leave me..."

She wanted to scream. You couldn't die. Not like that. Not now. You still had so many things to do...

"What about these holidays we talked about...? The amusement park...? The dates on the beach...? The sunsets you said we'd see together...? Y/n please..."

She couldn't admit it. Even months after. She still hoped you would come at her door one day, hug her, kiss her, take her hand and take her with you to some cool place you promised her to go.

But you never came.

Sometimes she dreamt about you. Waking up without you next to her was always heartbreaking. She kept the clothes you forgot in her closet. At first they still smelt like you. Not anymore.

It was like you really disappeared. Every trace of your presence slowly vanished.

Not the pictures though. Oh how much she cried looking at your selfies together, holding your favorite necklace tight in her hand. The one she gave you on your first anniversary. The one you never took off.

Everyone told her to move on, to see someone if she needed help. But she didn't need help. She needed you.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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goosewriting · 2 years ago

Text

Peepaw date (rottmnt future!Leo x reader)

we interrupt our scheduled event programming for a quick piece inspired by this drawing of future!leo by @donathan !! i found this prompt “standing still as your lover rubs smudged lipstick/lipstick stains off of your skin, catching them off guard by pressing a kiss against their fingertip” and my brain wouldn’t leave me alone until i wrote this so!! enjoy :’D

summary: date night with future!Leo where you both have a lil too much wine

relationship: Rise future!Leo x GN reader

warnings: reader is wearing lipstick, mention of alcohol, innuendos?, i’m gonna say 15+ just in case

word count: ~950

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

You shake your head, laughing at Leo’s corny joke. As your chuckles subside, you take another sip of the wine, your eyes never leaving his.

He’s always been handsome, obviously, but right now, with his flushed face and soft gaze, he looks downright irresistible. The glasses, suspenders, and those shirt buttons holding on for dear life are certainly not helping.

The waitress approaches your table, bringing the dessert you ordered earlier. It’s a parfait meant to be shared. According to the menu it was for two people, but this is way bigger than you imagined.

“Need some help?” Leo asks with a smirk, snatching one of the spoons. “Your eyes were bigger than your stomach again, huh?”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. You were stuffed after the meal, and he knew that, but you weren’t gonna go down without at least trying.

“There is always room for dessert” you retort, scooping up a spoonful of the whipped cream at the top of the tall cup, picking up a strawberry slice as well. “Humans have a second stomach just for dessert, you know. It’s science.”

“No, they don’t” he’s quick to answer, but for a second his eyes narrow at you, questioning your statement even if only a little bit, before shaking his head with a chuckle. You almost had him; even after all these years together, you’d still try to tease him with made-up facts about humans (and turtles alike). It was rare, but sometimes you succeeded in convincing him. Until Donnie intervened, that is.

– – –

Once you’re done with dessert and your drinks are empty, you stand up from your chair, only to realise your legs are wobblier than you’d like. For a moment the room spins around you, and you glare at your wine glass. Maybe you drank a bit more than you should have.

You look up at Leo, and notice that he’s not much better off than you. You giggle at his heavy blush, and when he looks at you, you can’t tell if what you see is the turtle drunk on alcohol or on love. It’s probably a little bit of both, and the thought makes your chest swell with warmth.

After paying, you hook your arm under Leo’s and you walk out of the restaurant. When did it get so late? The sun had long set, and now your path is only illuminated by the street lights and a full moon. You inhale deeply as a fresh breeze hits you, carrying the smell of a cool summer night.

“How about a little walk to sober up before we head back?” Leo suggests, and you agree.

You walk a couple of blocks in comfortable silence until you reach the river and start walking along the railing. Every so often there’s a streetlamp, their glow mixing with the night city lights, reflecting and flickering on the water surface, making your surroundings look almost magical.

Your gaze gets lost in the dark water for a moment, until you’re suddenly pushed closer to it. You squeak in surprise, almost tripping over your own feet, as Leo guides you towards the railing, turns you around and pins you with your back against it.

Amused but also confused, you shoot a look up at him and are met with his signature smirk, but there’s also something else in his eyes as he towers over you. One of his hands holds onto the metal bar behind you, the other reaches up to cup your cheek, and you can feel a new wave of heat spreading on your neck and face, not from the wine this time. Unable to keep his intense gaze, you shyly look away to the side, your own hands creeping up on his chest until you intertwine your fingers behind his neck. All these years, and he still makes you feel like a flustered teen.

“Been wanting to do this all night” Leo whispers as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. You happily reciprocate, tilting your head for a better angle. After lazily making out for a moment, you leave his mouth to trail kisses down his jawline, neck, and then go back to his lips. He swallows your sighs and little moans as things start getting more heated, when he grinds his hip into yours with a low grunt.

That’s when you push him back, both of you slightly out of breath, and he whines that you stopped.

“Leo, you’re drunk” you chuckle and hold his cheek. He leans into your touch. “We both are. Let’s get home and we can pick up where we left off in the morning. How’s that sound?”

Leo grumbles something unintelligible, but you take it as an agreement. He doesn’t move though, and neither do you. Your eyes travel over his handsome face one last time, and when you reach his lips you can’t help but laugh at his state: your lipstick was smeared all over his mouth, chin and neck.

“Hold on a second” you say and try to rub it off to the best of your abilities. You make a mental note to check for a reflective surface somewhere to clean yourself as well, since you probably don’t look much different than him right now. As you’re trying to get a particularly noticeable smudge off his jaw, Leo reaches up to grab your wrist and places a quick kiss to the palm of your hand, his eyes soft and loving. The gesture catches you off-guard, and your cheeks are ablaze again.

“Leave it” he says, properly taking your hand in his as he pulls you away from the railing and starts walking home. “Let everyone see I’m yours.”

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #future leo x reader #future leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader

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