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homestylehughes · 3 months ago

Text

wet dream

pairing(s): Luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: Luke wakes yn up during her wet dream, leaving her all embarrassed, but happens when Luke makes her dreams a reality?

warning(s): 18+ mdni. extreme dirty talk, oral fem!receiving, nipple play, slight edging. use of pet names, foul language.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: hi guys...long time no see. do you guys hate me?? be honest..LOL. kicking off my return to tumblr, with no other than some smut. now.. this has to be the dirtiest smut I've written yet, so i'm a little scared for this one. I'm also a little nervous that I'm rusty because I haven't written in a while. so hopefully it's good LOL. this song is based off of wet dream by wet Leg, I would highly recommend listening to it when reading. I've never written anything like this before so this was new for me but I love it, and you guys do too. okay this is getting long.. because you know I LOVE to yap. anyways. I hope you all are doing well, I promise I'm back and that I'll be putting more things out very very soon. much love always <3

I wasn't sure how I ended up on Luke's lap on the side of a back road in the middle of nowhere. But i don't think i have a bone in my body that cares, because the way lukes mouth feels on my neck is enough to make me lose all of my senses.

“Luke shit” I moan out as my hips rut against his, as his lips trail up my neck.

“luke..we should probably start to head home” i say, not wanting this to get out of hand in the car

“Why baby, I thought you were enjoying this?” He asks, his eyes locking with mine as he begins to pull at my shirt, exposing my chest.

“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere, what if someone catches us?”

“Baby, we’re in the middle of nowhere, no one is going to catch us.” he replies, as his hands work their way under my shirt, pulling it slowly up my body, and before I know it he's tossing my shirt behind him in the car.

“Luke..” i say hesitantly

“What, I'm not doing anything..” he says with a small smirk, moving his hands to hold my waist as he looks up at me.

“Your making this hard for me” i say, trying to resist his touch, knowing im doing a terrible job so far

“Then let me make it easy for you” he replies before pressing your lips together

I can't help but kiss him back, my hands instantly moving to his brown curly locks, pulling myself closer to him. Feeling his hands slide up my back to my bra, his fingers sliding under unfastening it, pulling it away from my body. Luke's hands finding my breasts instantly, his fingers running along my already hardening nipples. He leans his head back against the headrest, licking his lips as he trains his eyes to my breasts.

my body moves on its own accord as i push my chest into his hands, needing and wanting anything he's willing to give me.

“Luke” i softly whine out

“Shh..baby. Im taking this all in.” he says cutting off your plead for more

“It's nothing you haven't seen before” i retract

“But everytime i see them, it's like the very first time over again.” he says before pressing soft kisses to the top of my breasts.

“Baby you should see yourself right now..fuck.” he almost moans out before finally connecting his hot mouth to your nipple.

“Oh god” I moaned, my body melting against his, my hips moving against his again. The feeling of his mouth on my nipple, his other hand needing and pulling at my other breast, as we both move together as one. I feel him everywhere, I need him everywhere. I'm almost sure that I can cum from just this, feeling my wetness pool through my jeans.

“Luke..” i say breathlessly

“What baby?” he asks, his mouth pulling away from my breast, a string of his saliva following his path. His pupils are blown with lust, his cheeks slightly pink, his lips swollen, and plump, as he looks up at me. Fuck, hes a sight for sore eyes.

“I need you to fuck me..Please” i tell him, no long caring if we’re in the middle of no where, or let alone that you’re in a car. The only thing I can think about is how much I need him. Wanting to show him how much I need him I urgently press our lips to his, putting all of my want into the kiss, hoping he gets the hint. Luke picks it up instantly, his hands pulling at my hips rocking them harder against his.

I slide my hands under his shirt, raking my nails over his toned stomach, luke moaning at the sensation of my hands against him. pushing his shirt higher higher, luke pulls away for a second pulling the shirt from his body tossing it behind him before reconnecting his lips to mine.

The kiss is hot, and nasty, teeth clashing, as our tongues fight for dominance, my hands tangling in Luke's hair, pulling him more into me, if that even possible at this point. I can feel his hands on the waistband of my jeans, his fingers working to undo the button, pushing their way into my jeans as he begins to push them down my hips.

“Fuck look at you baby..looking all fucked out on my lap. This turns you on huh? Knowing we could get caught at any moment. Such a slut aren't you?” he says to me, his fingers dancing along the top of my underwear. I can only whine in response, my brain is too clouded with want and lust. I just push his hand close to my core. Just as he's pushing his hands past my underwear. But suddenly, it's like it all just stops.

“yn..yn..yn?” I hear someone say from beside me, my body shooting directly up, as I push my hair out of my face. My chest rises quickly as I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

“Baby are you okay?” I hear Luke ask from beside me, turning to him to see confusion and worry written all over his face, as I stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I'm okay, I'm sorry” I say, licking my lips, to try and gather myself.

“Are you sure? You were moving around and making noises, almost sounding like you were in pain.”

I was making noises? Oh my god, I can feel my face becoming hot as I bury my head in my hands, I can't help but laugh in embarrassment.

“What??? Am I missing something here?” luke asks me frantically

“Luke..” i start pulling my head from my hands

“Yn..” he follows

“Promise to not judge me?” i ask

“Yes, always”

“I had a wet dream??” i say softly

“A wet dream?” luke asks

“Yes, luke a wet dream, I'm really embarrassed and I would like to go to bed.” I say looking at the blanket in front of me, too ashamed to look at him.

“That's nothing to be embarrassed of baby, people have wet dreams all the time, its normal.” he says, trying to make me feel better

“I know luke..but still im embarrassed.”

“Was it a good dream?” he asks

“It was a really good dream..” I sigh, wishing it was real. Wishing Luke didn't wake me before it got to the good part.

“What was it about?” he asks

“Luke..”

“I think i have the right to know” he says, i can hear the small smirk in his voice without even looking at him.

“I can't tell you..” i hesitate once again

“Yes. you can. And you will” he says before pulling the blanket that covers my body back, before i know it, his hands are wrapping around my thighs, pulling me into his lap. Just like my dream.

“Now you can't run, so get to talking. It must've been a good wet dream to wake me up at 3:45 in the morning”

A wave of guilt runs through my body, feeling bad that I woke him up all because of a dream, but it's not like I knew I was thrashing and moaning in my sleep.

“Okay” i sigh to him

“We were in the middle of nowhere in your car and somehow you seduced me and I ended up in your lap and my clothes were off and it was getting to the good part and then you woke me up.” i say quickly, my eyes locked on his chest

“Oh..” luke says

Oh??? That's all he has to say, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“See i knew i shouldn't have told you” i say slightly upset but his lack of response

“Woah calm down. I'm processing this. My girlfriend just told me that she had a wet dream about us fucking in a car.”

“we didnt fuck. You ruined that part of the dream, when you woke me up” i look up, pouting in his face

“Well i'm sorry i was concerned you were getting eaten by a bear or something” he says with a smile, his response causing me to giggle.

“Fine whatever” i say with a small smile on my lips

“Where did we leave off in this dream baby?” he asks, moving his hands to my hips, his mood change taking me by surprise.

“You-you had your hands in my underwear” I tell him.

Following my instructions, Luke moves his hands to my underwear, toying with the band on the side before sinking his fingers completely inside, causing me to react instantly, moaning as his fingers slide their way into my wet core.

“Fuck me..already so wet for me” he groans out

“Luke..shit” I moan, dropping my head to his neck, as his fingers move against my clit, suddenly the room feels on fire, and once again I feel him everywhere, I need him everywhere.

“Please don't stop.” I say to him, moaning in his ear as he slips a finger inside my pussy.

“Always take my fingers so good” he grunts, his lips moving against my neck, sucking and kissing any exposed bit of skin he can.

My hips move against his fingers, trying to chase any bit of a high that I can get.

“Gonna put another finger in baby, can you handle that?”

“Fuck yes please, i need it..” I whine to him, my jaw goes slack as he pushes not one but two more fingers into my dripping pussy, the only sounds that are reaching my ears are the sounds of luke's fingers moving in out of me, my wetness pooling down my thighs. And the sound of luke and I’s soft moans and pants.

“Kiss me please” I beg, moving my face to his, our lips meeting in the middle. Our lips begin moving together at a fierce speed, unable to get enough of each other.

“Right there luke, fuck” i moan pulling back from his lips, as his fingers curl perfectly inside of me, hitting all of the spots that i need him too.

“Feel good baby?” he asks, looking down at me with hooded eyes

“Yes, oh my god yes” i moan, my eyes locked on his

“Move your hand down there and play with your clit, while i fuck with you with my fingers” luke says to me, almost demanding. Quickly moving my much smaller fingers, to my pussy, circling them on my clit. moans and whines begin to fall almost instantly from my lips as complete pleasure takes over my body.

“Yeah thats it baby, take what you need from me” luke moans from below me, watching me fuck myself harder against his fingers

“Im gonna cum luke, don't stop please” i beg.

“Keep your eyes on me while you cum, I'll stop. Got it?” he tells me

“Yes.” i frantically nod back in response

One more thrust of Luke's fingers, one more circle of my fingers against my clit, and I'm coming undone before I know it. My fingers dropping from my clit, moving both of my hands to luke shoulders to keep myself up right as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm. My eyes fight to stay open as my body thrashes and shakes against his.

“Fuck” i say with the little voice that i have left, my eyes still locked on luke’s.

Feeling empty as he pulls his fingers from my pussy, moving his hand in front of his face, seeing his fingers glisten in my cum, in the dim room. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. I can't help but watch his every movement, my body already wanting more, of whatever he wants to give me.

“Was that better than your dream?” he finally speaks

I quickly press our lips together as a response to his question. I can't help but moan as I taste myself on his tongue, pulling him into me by his hair, our chests pressed together.

“We haven't gotten to the last part of my dream” i say against his lips

“And what's that?” luke asks before placing another soft kiss to my lips

“You havent fucked me yet.”

“Well what am I waiting for?” he quickly says, before flipping us over, dropping me lightly on the bed. Where he starts to prove once again that he's much better than a wet dream.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes smut #luke hughes imagine

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xxchumanixx · 6 months ago

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Hiii! If its not much trouble could I request a tim Bradford and reader fic where she's really shy and sensitive, but still diligent at work and his rookie? He usually had a soft spot for her bcs he has a crush on her but she messes up a case and gets yell at by him?? Calls her a crybaby and all?? But later he comforts her and confesses? Maybe she thinks he likes lucy up until that point?? Just a lot of angst filled with pining and fluff! Thanks sm and I love your workk💕

Headrush

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: language! (Shut up, Steve), fluff, hurt, angst

Word count: 2.523

Authors note: Oh my god, it's been so long, I'm so sorry! Thank you a lot for your request! I really liked the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it.

Lots of love! ❤️

Please, as always

Enjoy!

"Shit, shit, shit!" you cursed under your breath, biting your lip as your fingers anxiously fiddled with the belt on your hips.

This was not how this case was supposed to go.

Not at all.

It was like a damn domino effect - one thing went down the hill, and so did the rest one after another.

A whole fucking shitshow.

That your suspect was lying dead on the street was just the cherry on top.

He had tried to run from you, not watching where he went. You tried to warn him, yelled that he should watch out, when a car hit him, and sent him flying over the street.

Tim stood beside you, eyes wide and mouth agape, not really believing what he saw. He wasn't sure whether to yell at you, comfort you, or just get back in the car.

He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. He usually was softer with you, than he was with other rookies he had.

You just didn't know that he harbored feelings for you that went far beyond being your TO.

A conflicting thing, really.

"You-" he started, cutting himself off, eyes flying over the scene. The dead man on the floor, the shocked civilians all around you.

The poor woman that drove the car that hit the man.

The ambulance covered the man with a sheet, calling the coroner.

That was what snapped him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tim spoke up, rasing his voice as he looked down at you. "What the hell did you think?" You flinched at his tone, some of your usual shyness and sensitivity shining through.

Tim bit his cheek, so hard he almost drew blood.

He felt bad, sorry even.

To yell at you was one of the things he wanted the least, but he had no other choice if he wanted you to be successful.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"Sir, I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but he didn't let you. Once he was in that stage of rage, it was hard to see an escape through the fog.

"No, of course you did not!" he went on, the look on his face both terrifying and breaking you.

To ever think you'd stand a chance with the man yelling down at you seemed like the stupidest thing in the world suddenly.

"How could you let him get this far?" he continued to rage, seemingly not caring about the people around you that started to watch the commotion. "You should have stopped him!"

You swallowed, a bitter pill you'd forced upon yourself by letting the suspect get this far. That you'd fallen pretty badly along the way, most likely spraining your ankle, wasn't important anymore.

Who knew if he'd even seen it?

"I- I'm sorry." you breathed out, doing your best not to lose your face in front of him. The day had started bad, and it got worse the longer it went on. "I shouldn't have let him get this far."

Tim scoffed, hands fisting his belt as he looked around you. "I shouldn't have let you handle this on your own." he spoke, voice a mix of regret and spite. "I should have known better."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You knew you were ready, and damn he knew it, too. Mistakes were normal, no matter how long you were doing the job already. But with your last week as a rookie rolling around, he pushed you more and more beyond your limits.

You felt tears burn in your eyes, the ugly tugging sensation in your jaw when you tried your very best to hold them back.

But Tim had already seen them.

His head tilted in disbelief, eyes widening before they narrowed.

Not a good sign.

"Are you gonna cry?" he asked, voice full of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? What are you? A fucking crybaby?"

Told you so.

You cleared your throat, cheeks burning in shame.

"No, no, of course not." you mumbled, trying to steady your voice. Tim tilted his head more, sending you a look that told you to repeat yourself. "No, I'm not crying." you repeated louder, looking up at him.

To say his behavior hurt was an understatement.

"Get in the car." he hissed, motioning at the shop. You nodded, doing as he told you without protesting.

It wouldn't have done you any good, anyway.

Moral of the story suddenly played in your head, and you couldn't help but think how right Ashe was, as you climbed into the passengers seat.

You had learned a lot about Tim the last year, yet he surprised you with how cold and harsh he was right now.

You should have never let your stupid crush get out of hand like this. Maybe to be hurt like this, to be talked down by him like that - maybe that was your moral of the story.

Like they said: Never fuck the company.

Not that you and Tim had gotten physically close somehow, but that didn't stop your mind from imagining sometimes.

You just were glad you experienced him like this before anything could have happened.

Not that you had much faith in that, anyway.

____

You let out a sigh, as you finally made your way out of the station.

It had been a long day, maybe the longest of your life. After driving back you had to wait before being questioned about the incident. It went on for nearly two hours, in which they decided you weren't responsible for the suspects death.

Yes, he had run from you, but it was his own decision, and you had tried to warn him.

You body-cam proofed it.

You hadn't seen Tim since you'd gotten out of the shop, silently thankful for it.

You didn't know if you'd been able to endure another round of his scolding today without actually breaking down.

Seeing Lucy though, only pressed on your sore nerves more. Yes, you liked her as a friend, but the thought that Tim seemed head over heels for her warred with that.

Only a fool wouldn't see.

The cold night air hit your skin, effectively cooling it down and clearing your head a little. You hoped to get home and fall in bed, only waking up again when you would have forgotten this day.

But someone seemed to have other plans.

"Y/N, wait!" he called out after you, and you only then noticed that his car was still in the almost empty parking lot.

You debated whether to ignore him, act like you didn't hear, but your consciousness said otherwise. You turned around as he stopped in front of you, silently cursing yourself for being such a good person.

He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, lips parted, like he didn't expect you to actually wait. "Listen," he then started, brows furrowing slightly as his gaze drifted away for a brief second. "I didn't mean to be so harsh on you back there."

You frowned, blinking a few times in confusion. Was he a-

"I'm sorry."

You didn't know what to say, now at a loss for words yourself. "I- i'ts okay." you then said after finding your voice, biting your cheek. "You lectured me, and it's not like it wasn't justified, sir."

He gritted his teeth, you could see even in the dim streetlight.

"No, that was too harsh." he gave back, shaking his head, frown deepened. "It wasn't your fault he was hit by the car. You tried to warn him and he didn't listen."

You pushed your bottom lip forward, not sure where his sudden change in mood came from. "Look, sir-" you started, but he cut you off. "Stop that." he demanded, the frown on his face bordering on angry now.

Your lips parted in confusion, not sure what you did wrong now.

"Stop calling me sir." he said. "We both know that's needless. It's not like- I mean, you're one week away from becoming a p2. We both know you'll make it with flying colors. Call me Tim."

He was selfish, he knew it.

But if it meant he'd hear his name from your mouth even once, he'd do anything. He didn't know yet if you'd choose to stay after graduation, and he'd have to take what he got.

He was in way too deep.

You swallowed before you nodded, gaze meeting the ground. Your teeth maltreated your cheek, not sure how to react.

"I've never- I've never seen a dead person like this before." you suddenly spoke, looking back up at him. "I didn't know where my head was, and you yelled at me. I was overwhelmed."

It just bubbled out of you. Maybe the dim lighting made you bolder.

"That's not me." you continued, shaking your head. "I- I'm tidily, I always make sure to give my best, it just-" Without you noticing, tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you gasped for air.

Tim's own eyes widened, as he realized you were about to panic.

He closed the distance, wrapping his arms around you.

It was pure instinct, every nerve in him telling him to hug you, to comfort you.

To not make him see you cry.

He couldn't.

"It's okay." he spoke softly, as your fingers fisted the material of his jacket. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

You couldn't help the tears from flowing, not when he held you like this, doing his best to make you feel better.

"I should have known." you sobbed, pushing the shame for crying onto his jacket aside for now. "I wasn't ready."

He shooed you, one hand carding through your hair.

He knew if someone saw you two, this would have ended badly.

But he couldn't bring himself to care.

"You are ready." he gave back. "More than ready. I've seen you out there, you always have yourself under control. You're diligent, something that not every rookie is. You may be shy, and maybe a bit sensitive, but that's something good. You know how to talk to people, you understand them. And I know this wasn't your fault. You did your absolute best, and that's exactly what I told them back there."

You swallowed, cheeks heating up at his words.

You didn't expect him to be so open and soft with you.

"You- you really think that?" you asked, sniffing as the tears slowly subsided. He chuckled softly. "God, you have no clue." he mumbled, gaze flitting over the dark parking lot.

You frowned, not sure what he meant. But before you could have asked, he continued on his own.

"I'm not good at this emotional stuff." he said with a huff. "But you are. And I'm grateful for it, I really am, because I learned to get better at it, because of you. And I'm supposed to be the TO here, not you."

You chuckled, not having expected him to learn something from you whilst training you.

"You should talk to Lucy, then." you suggested, the thought jabbing at your heart. But if he wanted her, he'd be prepared for the emotional talk now, then.

Tim frowned, looking down at you with confusion. He gently pushed you away enough to look in your eyes.

"What do you mean?" he wanted to know, trying to make out what you were telling him. Your cheeks heated up, but you knew there was no turning back now.

Might as well reap what you've sown by digging into his personal life.

"I mean that you can tell her how you feel if you're better at emotional stuff now." you explained, doing your best to look encouraging. He scoffed a laugh, nose crinkling slightly. "Wait, you think I-" he started, but cut himself off with another laugh.

You frowned, suddenly feeling uncertain. "Yes, I mean-" you wanted to explain yourself, but he cut you off, hands on your arms as he leaned a bit down to look into your eyes. "No." he said firmly, a grin on his lips. "I'm not in love with Lucy."

The thought almost seemed absurd to him.

Why would he want Lucy when you were here, standing right in front of him?

Your frown deepened, thoughts running a million miles a minute. "Wait, you're not?" you asked, voice carrying a hint of disbelief and maybe relief. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "No." he confirmed. "I'm not."

Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, only broken by a huff leaving your lips. "Well, I'm not as good at reading people as I thought I am." you mumbled, biting your cheek.

He shrugged as if to say I noticed. "If you were you would have known I don't want Lucy." he said, empathizing her name.

You cocked a brow, looking up at him again. "What do you mean?"

He sent you a smile that sent your heart into a frenzy, and for a moment, you thought you'd have a headrush. "I mean," he began, eyes wandering over your face. "That I can't wait for you to be a p2."

You felt dumb.

"Tim-" you started, but cut yourself off, as realization suddenly hit you like a freight train. "Wait, what?"

He chuckled, a sound that seared its way into your brain the first time you'd heard it. "Yes." he confirmed. "I don't want Lucy, because I already want you, Y/N."

It felt like the night sky had decided to let all it's lucky stars rain down on you at once.

A mix of emotions rushed through you, and you felt like you'd actually have a headrush.

"What- How?" you stammered, words escaping your brain. "I- I mean, why me? Why not her?"

Tim cocked a brow at your words. He knew you'd say something like that, a clear sign of how well he knew you by now. "Because you're you." he said. "Because you care. You're smart, funny, cute. You are a good cop, and I couldn't ask for more in a person than you already are. I don't want Lucy, because I'm not interested in her the way that I'm interested in you."

You inhaled shakily, his words like a balm to your wounded heart.

"And if you'd let me, I'd like to take you out once you're officially a p2." he added with hope shining in his bright eyes.

A smile spread your lips at his words. "I'd love to go out with you, Tim." you gave back, causing his own smile to grow.

His eyes fell to the smile on your lips, and suddenly he cared even less about the open space of the parking lot.

"Can I kiss you?" he wanted to know, eyes finding their way back to yours.

Your smile widened, and you nodded. "You can."

It was delicate the way he pressed his lips to yours, like petals of a flower. One hand snaked its way into your hair, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer. Your own hands gripped his jacket, anchoring you.

It was all you could have wished for.

And suddenly, the headrush wasn't so unpleasant anymore.

Tag List:

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @dhundhchrih @augustvandyne @rookietrek @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @freyathehuntress @skywalker0809

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine

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amongemeraldclouds · 5 months ago

Text

bookstore meet cute | jess mariano | flufftober masterlist | 729 words

a/n: special tag for the lovely @thatdammchickennugget ♡ glad you're back in your gilmore girls phase!

Your eyes lit up when you found the book you were looking for at the store. This was the third bookshop you had visited and you were starting to lose hope you'd ever get a copy of it.

You had already read The Subsect from the library, but you liked it enough to have wanted your own copy. It was a coming of age story that was sarcastic but meaningful, raw and relatable. The character felt like a friend you had known for years.

It was rare that a book could make you feel that way and you greatly admired the author. Your hands itched to underline phrases and annotate paragraphs. Now there it was, right in front of you.

As you reached out to take it, a stranger approached you and grabbed it first. You stared back at him, aghast. It was the last copy on the shelf.

"I got here first," you huffed.

"What's so good about this one?" He asked, scanning the cover. You looked at him with his geled hair and sharp jaw, mischief glinting in his eye. He was cute, it was a shame he was such an asshole.

"You're the one holding the book, you tell me," you bit back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Answer my question and I'll give it to you," he offered.

"Stop harrassing my customers, Jess!" the owner called out from the counter. "This boy will run me out of business, I swear," she said fondly, giving you an apologetic smile.

"You know I'm your favorite," he replied to her with a charming grin and she waved him off as she turned to greet a new customer, not denying it.

"Well," he said, handing the book to you. You studied the book and frowned.

"The woman called you Jess..." you started, piecing things together.

"That is my name," he nodded.

"What are the odds that you're the Jess Mariano who wrote this book?" your eyes widened a fraction.

He tilted his head, "maybe, depends who's asking."

"This is why you should never meet your heroes," you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. "Don't let that get to your head," you warned him as an afterthought.

He raised his hands as if he wouldn't dare. "I'm not usually one to judge someone's life choices, but why me?"

"You know what, I'm asking that very same question myself right now," you brought your fingers to your chin.

He laughed, "and what's your answer?"

"To be determined," you decided. "You should at least buy me a coffee first before asking about my life decisions."

You regretted the words as soon as it left your mouth. "Shit, no. I did not mean to ask you out," heat rose to your cheeks and you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"Technically, you asked me to ask you out. And you know what? I think it's a great idea. Want to grab a coffee with me?"

You frowned, "you don't even know my name."

He just shrugged, "maybe that's another question you can answer over coffee."

You smiled at his persistence, "you invite all your readers out for coffee?"

"Just the ones who call me their hero."

You winced at his words, "what time do you get off work?"

"As it so happens, I'm due for my lunch break," he said. "I can ring that up for you then we can go, there's a place nearby that serves great coffee."

"I'll have to check my calendar." You considered for a moment and thought of all the questions about the book that you wanted to ask, you could now get answers straight from the source. You tamped down your excitement, you had already embarrassed yourself enough for a day.

"Works for me. You move fast, Jess Mariano," you said nonchalantly as you both moved towards the counter.

"I know what I want, name-to-be-discovered-soon-over-coffee," he said as he finished up and handed you the shopping bag.

You laughed, "you can call me y/n."

"And you can call me your hero. Oh wait, you already did," he teased.

"You'll never let me live that down, won't you?"

"Not until I hear something more interesting over coffee. No pressure," he winked before he moved away for a second to inform the owner he'd be taking his break.

He then returned and reached his hand out to you, "right then, shall we?"

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano fanfic #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls #flufftober on emerald clouds #flufftober #amongemeraldclouds fluff #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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atinyniki · 6 days ago

Text

when the love fades.

group: seventeen !

pairing: idol!minghao x gn!reader

genre: angst with a hopeful ending, kinda fluffy if you squint

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, minghao is referred to as hao sometimes, petnames, drowning (no one dies), mentions of choking and the feeling of it, kissing, crying (lots...), reader is pretty sensitive, themes related to the sea, communication + the fear that comes along with it, hugs, literally so much pain and regret, shua is mentioned once, reader loves seashells :3

authors note: um... hey. im back. its been a while </3 idk i kind of wrote this bc im trying to get my spark back so it's still kind of shit but i hope you all enjoy it anyways :))) pls lmk if i didn't use gn terms !!! i tried to make sure i did but then again i'm not quite used to it </3 this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1878

when the love fades, it’s not always noticeable.

maybe you start getting less text messages from them, or maybe you two go on fewer dates.

maybe your contact name changes to something more generic for them, or maybe you don’t kiss as much as you used to.

but with minghao? that’s not the case.

it seemed to hit you like a brick, something had just changed. it wasn’t gradual, and everything just stopped at the same time.

barely texting, kissing, going on dates, there was nothing there anymore. you found yourself living with a stranger, occasional hi’s and hello’s but nothing else. the two of you were barely able to keep a conversation anymore.

a couple months ago, you and minghao couldn’t ever stay silent in a room. there was always something to talk about with you two, whether it was about your new office drama, or maybe just a little dream you had.

but now, the silence was suffocating. as if it had a grip so tight on your throat that it bruised, but still let a bit of air out so you could breathe. not enough to kill you, but just enough to make you suffer.

you feel like you’re drowning. like the water is rushing into your lungs and you can’t find your way back up to the surface.

that is, until you feel it. the pain in your chest. but it’s not a heartbroken type of pain.

the water fills up your lungs before you know it. you can’t breathe. you’re drowning, and you can’t swim.

there’s something in you that wants to accept your fate, and you let yourself relax. that is, until you feel someone pulling you out of the water.

you cough the water out of your lungs, your eyes burning from the salt. “baby? y/n, are you okay?”

slowly, your eyes adjust to your surroundings. to be honest, you can’t even remember what you were trying to do before you felt yourself sinking.

“y-yeah—cough—i’m okay…“

“fuck, please be careful. i can’t lose you.”

in theory, it seems to be a normal thing you’d say to your lover. but small phrases like this have been so rare between the two of you recently. your heart pounds against your chest at the sudden confession.

there’s a silence that washes over the two of you, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat as he helps you up.

it doesn’t go away.

it feels like that simple touch was the most you've felt from him in months, and you can’t even remember the last time minghao has said something like that to you.

the sun is already setting, you realize. you’ve been so out of it that you haven’t really noticed the time.

you grab the bucket of seashells you left by the shore and walk back with him towards your small setup that you made earlier, following just slightly behind him. for some reason, you feel awkward being face to face with him nowadays.

but something changes your mind.

you rummage through the bucket to find a pretty shell. one that suits minghao, but one that’s still small enough for him to hold in one hand. you’re still not quite sure what you’re planning on doing, but you’re certain your heart has a mind of its own.

and you trust it, fully.

“hao?”

he stops in his tracks, turning around slowly. there’s no smile evident on his face, but he’s not sad either. you can’t quite place how he’s feeling just from his face anymore, it’s like that skill has faded as your love did.

“are you okay?”, you don’t answer. not verbally, at least.

you set the bucket down and take a couple steps towards him, grabbing one of his hands and placing the shell there.

you watch as his confusion shifts to amusement. “you didn’t have to be so dramatic about it”, he jokes.

but then you look up at him.

and his whole world shatters.

you stand there in the dark, teary eyed and unsure if your relationship is even salvageable at this point. “i’m sorry… it was just a joke. thank you, it’s very pretty”

you reach your hands up to cup his face, leaving a bit of distance between you two in case he felt uncomfortable. it’s odd that you even think about that possibility now. you’re reminded of the times when you two were inseparable, always attached to eachother one way or another.

that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.

tilting your head, you lean a little closer towards him, but you’re scared. you haven’t kissed him in weeks, and you’re terrified that it’s unnatural to him now.

what if it doesn’t feel the same?

suddenly, you change your mind. you let your hands fall slowly, and you back away from him, clearing your throat awkwardly in the process.

“sorry, i don’t know what i was trying to do there.”, you sigh.

but he looks at you with a foreign expression that you can’t quite place. it’s like a cross between adoration and heartbreak.

you want to let the tears fall, to tell him how you truly feel about your relationship. but before you can, he pulls you into his chest, tilting your chin up and kissing you ever so softly.

his featherlight touches burn into your skin. touches that are so foreign to you now, but ones that you took for granted all those months ago. you pull away from him slowly, suddenly conscious of how your tears have escaped your eyes.

you quickly wipe them away, praying that minghao won’t question you.

your heart is beating wildly in your chest, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt like this. hell, you can’t remember if you’ve ever felt like this.

“look at me.”, he whispers. slowly, you tilt your head up to face him. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what happened to us, but i want it all back.”

you sigh deeply. “i’m not sure what happened to us either. i miss you, minghao.”

there’s another long pause, but it’s not as uncomfortable as it normally is. you can tell he’s thinking, there’s something important on his mind.

“hao, what’s wrong?”

the nickname catches him off guard, and he shoots his head up to look into your eyes once again. he inhales deeply, it seems like he can’t find the words to express his thoughts either. “do you think we can fix us? it might not be exactly what we had before but… i just really don’t want you to go.”

there’s a slight shift in the mood after his confession, you’ve never seen him so torn before. you wonder how long he’s been living with the idea that you’re going to leave eventually, because it’s far from the truth.

“i’m not going anywhere, minghao. i was never planning on it”

you hear him sniffle once, and your heart cracks. you know what type of man minghao is, and only the worst pain could ever cause him to cry.

“are you crying?”

no response. you’re not sure why you asked, seeming as the answer is fairly obvious by the way his head is tilted down.

he tentatively brings a hand out to your arm, almost like he’s reaching for you, but he doesn’t know where you’ll take him. “can i hug you?”

the sudden question shocks you. minghao never really had to ask for physical affection. he would always hug you, sometimes not even letting go for a long while.

had it really been that long? it’s terrifying how much can change in such a short amount of time.

you feel that it’s better not to respond, and you wrap your arms around his torso again, kissing his jawline once for good measure.

he clings onto you tightly, his nails digging into your shoulders. “fuck, i’m so sorry”

you can feel his heart beating out of his chest, and it terrifies you for a moment. you’re certain now, that this is a pain minghao has never felt in his entire life.

your suspicions are truly confirmed, though, when minghao slowly loses control in his legs, bringing you down onto the sand with him. sobs violently rack his body, and they rack you along with him.

“i’m sorry too. i never told you about how i felt. you can’t read my mind, and i know that. plus, work has been stressful for you, and you know it. you work so hard, i don’t want you to blame yourself so much all the time. it’s not all your fault, hao, it’s okay.”

“i had to find out through… fuck— how did shua notice but i didn’t? you don’t have to stay with me anymore i promise. it’s not fair to you at a—“, you shut him up with a peck.

“y/n—“

another one.

“why are you—“

another one. you smile.

he understands your intentions now, slightly smiling and leaning in for yet another kiss. he forgot how magical your kisses felt, and now he never wants to go without them.

“there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you, hao. so if that means we have to start fresh, then so be it, but i’m not ready to let you go, okay?”

he nods lightly, a little taken aback by your words. maybe it’s time for a change in your relationship.

“baby, look at me.”

you cup his face in your hands to have him face you, wiping the drying tears from his cheeks lovingly.

“i love you. so much. and i know we hit a bump in the road, but we’ll get through all of it, i promise. so don’t worry too much…”

he breathes a sigh of relief, kissing your lips passionately one more time.

“thank you… so much, y/n”, he whispers. it’s so quiet that you’re certain you would’ve missed it if you were paying attention to anything else.

a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your heart fluttering in your chest. there’s a different feeling in your heart, something that you haven’t felt in a very long time, but still something you didn’t realize you needed so much until now.

“let’s go home, okay? we can talk there…”, you whisper softly to him. he’s so incredibly close to you that you can almost feel your lips touching, the heat radiating off him.

you can feel yourself blushing a little, and it makes minghao smile. he picks you up, dusting the sand off your legs and grabbing your bucket of pretty seashells.

the two of you start walking back slowly towards your little setup on the shore, prickly small seashells poking the bottom of your feet along the way.

you see minghao turn towards you in your peripheral, and you stop in your tracks, wondering what he could be thinking about.

he confidently grabs your hands this time, interlacing your fingers together and gently rubbing along your knuckles with his thumb.

there’s a smile on his face now, and a new look that you can recognize this time.

determination.

he’s still not sure where you’ll take him, but none of that matters anymore. you’ll be okay.

as long as you’re by his side.

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silkythewriter · 1 year ago

Text

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle!, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors! (part 2)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: WOWZA HELLO I DIDNT THINK PEOPLE WOULD LIKE THE 1ST ONE SO MUCH?! TYSM FOR TGE SUPPORT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

“Cause those are my words, not yours

As far as I'm concerned, it could've been a lot worse

I wasn't trying to avoid the confrontation

She isn't crying, she's just making conversation��

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

“Look.. Adam-“ you said desperately before being cut off “no fucking way!” He chuckled “your actually side-ing with those shit bags?!” He said looking at you. You only glared at him, before huffing softly “watch your language…” You said with a with a small frown. Making his eyebrows crunch together as he closed his eyes with a huff. “For fuck sake do you know what those.. scums even did to end up there!” He said angrily. You steady your breath, with him you had too, you knew how he was but you just had too keep poking at him. Or get something other then a no, If you did you were sure to lose your mind.

“Adam, Just listen!, I think this could benefit heaven as well! More extra time means more time to do what you want. Wouldn’t you like that?” You tried reasoning as you cupped his hands in yours only for him to push it away. “Don’t test me Y/n, this is my job.” He spat out, making you wince. “Why are you pushing on this so hard anyways!, you have all you could want here. You barely have to lift a finger why are you so concerned for them?” He said crossing his arms. “They were humans once Adam, just like you, just like me. We’re no different, they just messed up once and we’re sent to an eternal furnace with no escape!” You said holding your hands to your chest. “Please! I’m nothing like them, I was the first fucking human soul in heaven, no one compares to me.” He laughed out. “So what does that mean about me?” You said with furrowed brows. He sighed heavily before speaking “Angel, listen to your self, your the only other person I really give a shit about. Well other then lute I guess” he shrugged as he rested his arm on the arm rest and laid his head in his palm boredly. “Look don’t worry your little gorgeous self about a thing. This ain’t your field!” He laughed.

You had patience, and you had tolerance. But his disrespect set you off. But you knew in your head that fighting someone like himself wouldn’t end well. You already had more leeway then most due to your, well close relationship with Adam. But you had to keep trying, after all angels don’t break promises.

With a heavy sigh you bowed before excusing your self. Which he quickly called out to you in confusion. But you only kept walking to your room, you were a patient one, but dealing with him proves to be a handful. You needed to think of a way to at least push it back one more month.

Just one more month

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

“What’s good cherry pimp” Angel dust asked as he threw himself on the couch sluggishly. “All day you’ve been hummin’ and tappin’ what’s on your mind?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow up as he put his gaze on Alastor. Alastor smile only grew, his mind filled with your intoxicating self. To him you very much everything, from the first day he was damned, till now all his mind was filled was you. But now more then ever, seeing you after all these decades was a shot of electricity to his very dead heart. You hadn’t change a bit since the last time he laid eyes on you. You were still angelic as ever.

Again he was swept up in his mind but quickly flicked back to reality, swaying softly as he hummed. “Oh nothing, my dear friend, old acquaintances I have recently seen after some time!” He said in his usual radio voice. “Yea I’m surprised anyone would be friends with you. Not to be rude or nothin’ but your fuckin’ creepy pal” angel said as he laughed as he waved his hands. Alastor only smirked in amusement as he took his leave.

He should have known someone of the likes of you would end up where most wouldn’t. He wasn’t an ounce surprised. But he wanted you back, and he was going to take what he wanted. He didn’t frankly care if you’d belong to the sky,

You were his angel first. And he’d rid those little wings of yours if it meant you were to never fly Away from him.

Not this time, not again

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

You tiredly tapped your finger over the dinner table. Mind still racing with ideas, it was a cycle, coming up with something, but ultimately crossing it off the thinking board. Adam paid no mind for awhile as he chatted Away with Lute. Which was eyeing you suspiciously. And once Adam went back to his meal she quickly cleared her throat as she straighten her stance next to Adam “Miss Y/n, you haven’t touched your food.” She stated bluntly. Which made you snap out of thought as you turned you attention to her “I’m afraid I don’t have an appetite today” you said softly pushing the plate stacked with food away form you.

“Are you really still hung up on that stupid shit little miss princess of hell proposed?” He scoffed. Causing you to huff, “I’ll be taking my leave.” You said plainly but as nicely as you could as you backed you seat from the table and stood up causing him to grunt. “Look angel, if I think about pushing the damn extermination back would you drop this?” He said making you quickly turn to him with a smile and nod. “There’s that smile, now sit down and eat I’m tired of thinking of all of this” he said as you agreed taking a seat.

Lute was appalled at how… how quick it was was all agreed. How could he just push it back so easily? Even if it was just him “thinking” about it. And for no reason other then you?, all though Adam was to In-grossed in his own things to question such things. She did not and quickly grew suspicious, you out of all people should be less worried. You have everything in a silver platter yet you still seem to have such a worry in matters that weren’t concerning you in the first place.

You could feel her eyes staring you down. But her suspicions were very much valid even if unfortunate to your case. You’d have to be more careful, if she caught on, she’d be quick to make Adam question aswell.

You cursed yourself slightly but still happy non the less. Even if you got Adam to consider the possibility of pushing the date back was still a progress!.

You were sure to tell Charlie soon, although you’d have to wait till lutes suspicions and stares would die down so you could slip away.

Your patience were never ending, but oh how much you longed for the man you’ve last seen years ago.

★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ

TYSM FOR READING AH I LOVED WRITING THIS AGAIN TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON NY LAST POST, ILL BE SURE TO WORK ON SOEM REQUEST BUT PLEASE BE ASSURED PART 3 WILL BE POSTED AFTER I DO SOME REQUEST. ٩(ᐛ)و

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byechristopher · 1 year ago

Note

chris x squirter gf plz ♥️

keep going. [+18]

– Chris Sturniolo smut.

chris x squirter!gf.

Author's note: you ask and you shall receive. Didn't think about it before this request but shit, that is hot. I hope you enjoy, lovelies. ♡ Don't copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: smut smut smut. Just pure filth. Long. Praise kink, squirter gf, don't know what else. Minors dni. Bye.

"Hey, cutie." I smile even though she can't see me through the phone, "I'm okay, how are you? Everything okay with the date?" I ask her. I am on the bed (I'm pretty sure she is, too), laying on my back and I close my eyes.

I can feel myself getting a little cold and I remind myself I am only in my underwear and a simple, thin white top. Not even wearing socks. Shit. I am a little too comfortable to move and I know Chris is taking a shower so, I just stay like this for a while, still talking to my friend.

I don't know how long it's been but me and my friend have talked about 55 different topics and I completely forget Chris is even home. So when I feel soft lips on my leg, I am a little caught off guard – I open my eyes to see Chris. His hair is still wet, water dripping down his body, he is wearing gray sweatpants. I can see his smile as he slowly trails kisses up my leg, all the way up to my thigh.

"I know right.." I try to keep my voice as normal as possible, although I can barely breath as he moves to the other leg. I'm not sure if I hear what my friend actually says.

Chris massages my thighs as he makes himself comfortable in between my legs. Droplets of water fall from his hair and land on my skin but his kisses make sure to keep me warm. He wraps his arms around my thighs and leans closer to where I need him the most – he rubs the tip of his nose against my panties and I try to supress a moan. He grins and places a soft kiss on the fabric. Then he sticks his tongue out and I almost lose it.

"Yeah.. no.. I mean, I guess?" I don't know what the fuck I am saying, all I know is that my boyfriend is fucking french-kissing me down there and I am dripping for him. I hang up as soon as possible and let out a groan.

"Why do you always do this to me?" I whine as I push my phone to the side (of course making sure it is switched off, just in case), spreading my legs a little wider to make room for him.

"Do what, babe?" he hums and continues locking me down there with my panties still on.

"Teasing me when I'm talking on the phone." I glace at him and he gives me an innocent smile back.

"Mhmm sorry pretty, want me to make it up to you?" his smile is always there, even when he hooks his fingers around my panties, slowly pushing them down.

"You better." I groan and as I am about to spread my legs again, he keeps my thighs together and pushes my legs so that my knees touch my chest. My panties are resting on the back of my knees and I can't see him in this position, but I can feel my pussy dripping.

"Shit, you're already making a mess, baby." he whispers before spreading those lips down there, taking my clit in his mouth, licking it hungrily. He slowly pushes his tongue inside of me and my hand immediately reaches behind my legs, finding his hair and grabbing a fistful of it.

"Please, you've tortured me enough today." I moan as he keeps slowly fucking me with his warm, wet tongue.

"Mhmm, that's true." he keeps his voice quiet and after placing a little kiss on my pussy, he sits up and grabs my panties, finally taking them off completely and throwing them to the other side of the room.

He gets up and I follow him with my eyes, trying to think of what he's doing instead of just fucking me already. I stay quiet, though. He sits on the armchair that is right next to them bed and motions me to come over – a little confused, I do as he says.

"I need to fuck you here, like this, I need to see you bouncing on me."

That's the thing about Chris – he could be the most playful, sweetest, smiley person but then, he says something like this when we have sex and I completely lose it. He's such a dirty-talker, I love him.

I immediately grin at his thought, but before I do exactly that, I get on my knees to take his dick in my mouth, after pushing his gray sweatpants down a bit, not taking them off though. He groans, throwing his head back and I place my hand on his chest, rubbing his skin as I continue to move my head up and down in a slow pace. My hand travels up to his throat and he immediately grabs my wrist, pushing his head forward to look at me with a look full of lust. He grabs the hand that's still on his throat and brings him close to his mouth, taking three of my fingers inside of it and I feel myself getting wetter. He sucks on these three fingers and then pushes my hand down, indirectly telling me to rub his dick with my hand.

"You taste so good." I groan and keep moving my hand as I place a soft kiss on the tip of his cock.

Then, abruptly, he pushes my hand away and grabs my shoulders, making me stand up and taking my shirt off, now leaving me completely naked. He grips my waist, fingers digging in my sides, and he kisses my belly gently before turning me around. My back is now facing him and as I feel him pushing me down to basically sit on his lap, my breath gets stuck in my throat.

"Pretty girl. I've been thinking about you all day." he whispers and I can feel him rubbing the tip of his cock against my pussy. He finds the entrance and without wasting any other time, he pushes me down on his dick. I scream.

"Fucking.. Chris.." my feet are on the ground, knees are bent, body slightly forward with my hands on his thighs and my ass pressed against him.

"Baby, shit.." he moans and leans forward to place a kiss on my back, hands caressing my thighs.

I know he's not moving to make sure I am okay and adjusting, so I take matters to my own hands and support myself on his thighs, starting to move my hips back and forth. He moans and I can almost hear his smile as he leans back again and grips my hips. He starts moving me up and down on him and I can't stop the loud noises that come out of my mouth.

"Babe.. you're fucking wet.. and so warm.. shit." one of his hands rests on my lower back and then drags itself up all the way up to the nape of my neck. He grabs it and pushes me forward, making me arch my back and perk my ass, as he lifts his hips to fuck me like this.

"Chris.. Chris.. yes! Like this.." I moan as he speeds up, his thrusts now becoming faster, rougher. His hands go back to my ass, squeezing it and slapping it, before grabbing it again and guiding me all the way down so he's balls-deep.

"Come on, pretty. Bounce on my dick, I wanna see you fuck yourself on it." he moans and slaps my ass again.

With my hands on his knees now, I start practically jumping up and down on him, his dick filling me up, "mhmm, I can feel you.. so deep.." I moan, bouncing on his cock, my ass slapping against his skin.

"Shit, shit.." he hums and wraps an arm around my waist, his hand moving up to my breast to pinch and tug on my nipple as his other hand goes down to my pussy, his middle finger rubbing my clit in circle motions.

"Chris! Please!" my moans start to get louder but he keeps the same pace.

"What is it, beautiful? Do you want to cum? All over my dick?" I am lost in the pleasure but I know he's smirking.

"Please." I want to cry from the overstimulation, he's been teasing me all day long and I didn't cum all day.

"Mhmm, I'm not done with you, baby. Get up." he says and I whine because I knew it. I keep moving my hips desperately and he smacks my ass. I groan and slowly take his dick out, getting up and turning around to face him. I am a mess.

He doesn't waste much time this once and immediately pulls me into his lap so that I'm straddling his thighs, guiding his cock to where my entrance is and pushes all the way inside me again. I grab his shoulders and start moving my hips, throwing my head back. He takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it and I look at him, seeing that he hasn't taken his eyes off of my face.

"Like it when I fuck you like this, baby? When I make you mine, over and over again?" he whispers against the skin that's in between my breasts and continues to thrust inside of me roughly.

"I'm.. Chris.. I– please.." I actually feel a tear running down my cheek from all the pleasure and he smiles, grabbing my ass with one hand and rubbing my clit with the other. I lose it.

"It's okay, baby. Don't hold back. I am going to let you cum this time." he hums and places kisses all over me. I want to cry happy tears. A sigh of relief leaves my lips and I lean forward, placing my lips against his, my tongue searching for his immediately. He kisses me hungrily, his dick moving inside of me and his thumb still rubbing circles on my clit.

Then, something weird happens. I can feel a wave of pleasure desperately searching for release, but it's not quite the usual one. It's as if it's something.. more. Something that I have no control over whatsoever.

"Chr.. Chris.." I stutter because I can feel my whole body shaking, trembling.

"You feel it, baby, hm? Are you going to cum all over me?" his thumb presses a little harder against my clit and he thrusts into me faster, "are you going to make me wet, too?" he says and I literally scream, my fingers digging in his chest, "cum, beautiful. Cum."

That's all it takes for me to lift myself up quickly, taking his dick out as he squeezes my ass to keep me closer and keeps rubbing my pussy to keep me going – I let out another loud moan/scream and with my body fully trembling now, I finally let go, my juices coming out of me like water, "fuck, baby yes, that's it" I can hear him say and I can feel him cumming with me but I'm still going and he's now fully covered in my juices, from his chest, to his cock, to his sweatpants.

Utterly exhausted, I let my body fall on his, not caring that we're both covered in cum and sweat. His arms wrap around me carefully, making me curl up on his lap and placing little kisses on my head.

"Baby, you okay?" he mutters, his voice hoarse.

I just nod reassuringly and curl up even more against him. He strokes my hair and grabs one of my hands that's resting on his chest, placing little kisses on my fingers, my palm, everywhere.

"Sorry for making a mess, I didn't know.. you know." I whisper, my eyes closed – I'm tired.

"I love you so much, babe. So much." he hugs my head and rests his chin on it, "you're beautiful."

"I love you too." I place a little kiss on his chest.

"I know. Now, come on. Let's go get cleaned up." he picks me up and I chuckle, hugging him, "also, I didn't know you were a squirter. How much hotter can you get?" he teases and I whine, hitting his chest – he laughs, I laugh too.

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scarletwinterxx · 1 year ago

Text

got me confused, got me satisfied - jaehyun imagine

hellooooo. currently on my jaehyun brain rot era😶😶‍🌫️ this is the bit different from what i usually write... hope you like it😅

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

: a bit suggestive, fluff, whipped jaehyun

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What do you give a man who has everything?"

"For Jaehyun? Damn girl, i don't know. What about a good dicking down" Joy says nonchanlantly like you're not having brunch at the moment.

"Sounds tempting" you mumble

"Your presence is a present enough, if he don't want that then I know a list of guys ready to take his place"

You chuckle at your friends words, "I like him though, I like his face, I like his hugs, I like that he likes me"

"You like all of him, it's not so bad too that his secret dream is to be a sugardaddy. Specifically yours"

"That doesn't make me a sugarbaby... does it?" you look over at her

"Girl, you are the definition of a sugarbaby, the lavish dates, the expensive gifts, out of town trips on his private yatch? what would you call that then?" Joy asks back

That got you quiet. Thinking about what you would call your relationship with Jaehyun.

You don't like being confused, it frustrates you. He frustrates you but there's no other man you would run to but him. No man can make you think like him. Here you are slowly losing your mind over finding a simple gift for him.

Smirking as an idea pop in your mind, "I think I got it" you mumble. Getting your bag to go the the mall and get what you need

"Where are you going?!" Joy shouts

"I'm going to make a man cry tonight, see you at the party" you shout back as you walk across the street, Joy just chuckles after you. Whatever it was you had planned, Jaehyun is definitely in for a surprise.

A few swipes of your card, and a couple of hours getting ready you finally make your way to the party. It was already packed by the time you got there, some faces you recognize but more you've never met before. Probably just here to have a good time.

You easily spot Joy amongst the crowd, happily belting out the song with a very drunk looking Jungwoo.

"You're hereeeee" she squeals when she spots you, pulling you by the arm and making you do a quick spin. Your little black dress and the cute matching black ribbon on your hair,

"You look hot babe! Is this Jaehyun's gift tonight?" she teases you, pulling playfully on the ribbon. She's not far off if you're being honest. Shrugging at her question teasingly, you excuse yourself to find the man of the hour.

He wasn't on the dance floor, in the main room or outside. You do find Yuta while you trying to find Jaehyun.

"Here for the birthday boy?" he asks, a beer in hand

"Yep, have you seen him?"

"He's been sulking all night, Joy and Jungwoo kept saying you weren't coming cause you were out on a date" he laughs

"They're evil, it's his birthday" you joke, laughing along with him.

"Go find your boyfriend before he finds you here, don't forget to use protection this house isn't baby proofed!" he shouts, earning a few glances but you pay no attention to them. Making your way back inside the house, you finally see the familiar tuff of dark hair, fair skin and those arms you loved having wrapped around you.

Confidently making your way over to him, he's still looking at the other side of the room where the door was. Like he was waiting for someone to walk through at any moment,

"Waiting for someone?" you ask, catching his attention

He turns his head so fast, you let out a giggle. At that moment Jaehyun didn't care if he looked like he cared too much. He didn't care if his friends were teasing him all night saying shit like you went out on a date and found someone better.

Who the fuck is better. He thought to himself earlier.

This arrangement he has with you is definitely a confusing one, but for you he'd ignore all the warning signs. Heck you could've been the biggest red flag and he'd still happily chase after you like a mad bull.

It's not like you're leading him on, he knows you like him. And he likes you. The two of you like the way you are right now, not exactly boyfriend and girlfriend but you do all the things that comes with being in a relationship. From the cute nicknames, to him driving you anywhere and everywhere, even having weekly movie nights in his room or yours (depends if all the guys are home). No man knows your body the way he does. And if he's completely honest, he would like to keep it that way.

In a way the two of you are lowkey, but nothing about the way you scream his name some nights says lowkey AT ALL.

You catch the way his face lights up, fighting the smile instead showing you a smirk. But you know him enough, he's happy you're here. You're happy you're here.

His eyes rakes over your body, head to toe. He tucks a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, "You look cute" he tells you, noting your wearing that damn ribbon he loves seeing on you. It makes you look innocent but he knows you well enough.

"Happy birthday" you tell him, throwing your arms around his neck to intertwine them. Dragging your nose along his jaw, kissing the shell of his ear knowing exactly what it'll do to him.

You smile when you pull back and see his ears turning red. A rather unimpressed look on his face, you want nothing but to kiss him but you hold back. For now.

"Thought you weren't going to make it" He tries to act nonchalant but his body was on autopilot. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you so close leaving no space between your bodies. If it was up to him, there's still too many places he's not close enough.

For example he wanted to just bury his face on your neck and mark you up for the world to see, let them wonder just who did that to you. He wanted to have your legs wrapped around him, like vice grips every time he pleases you.

"And you look like you're thinking about something else" you tease him, "I got you something" you add

"Told you, you didn't have to get me anything" he mumbles but you just shake your head at him

"Shhh, just this once let me buy you something. Tomorrow you can go back to living your dream of being my sugardaddy"

"Call me that again, I'm carrying you out of this kitchen and go upstairs" he tells you, leaning closer to you until your lips were centimeters away.

"Okay, daddy" you smirk, feeling his arms tighten around you before he lets you go. Confusion written across your face before you see him crouching down, feeling his hands behind your knees he throws you over his shoulder as gently as he could. One hand on your legs holding you while the other hand rest right were your dress stops.

"Hey! You guys! Come back here, we're doing shots" you hear Jungwoo scream but Jaehyun paid him no mind. It's like he's a man on a mission. Mission to ruin you.

He walks down the familiar hallway until he reaches the last door, punching in the code before walking inside. He doesn't let you down, again gently throwing you on his bed.

You laugh, like literally laugh out loud. Jaehyun watches you carefully, waiting for you to say something. He knows you know exactly how to rile him up.

"Now that I got you here, time for your present" you tell him, standing up to get a small paper bag on his table. You probably put it there before finding him downstairs earlier.

"Was this your masterplan?" he asks you

"Kinda, I have a few more lines to use but either way they will all end up with us locked here in your room" you giggle, how can you sound so angelic yet so devilish he will never understand.

"Here, even if you don't like it just pretend you do. For me" you tell him jokingly, taking the bag from you he opens it up to see a box. Inside it was a simple chain necklace. Anything from you is a prized possession to him.

That mug you made him on your second date? his favorite to have his coffee in the morning.

That tshirt you bought him because it had peaches all over it? his favorite shirt to wear at home.

That candle you bought for him to use in his room? still sitting on his bedside table, lighting it whenever you're over or when he misses you.

"Your style right?"

"You saw me looking at this when we went to the mall, was that why you told me not to buy it?" he asks, taking it out of the box to put it on. You watch happily as he finishes putting it on.

And god damn you were right, he looked good wearing it.

If taking gifts makes you this happy maybe, just maybe, he'll let you shop for him more. But in this relationship, he likes spending more on you. From dinners to quick coffee runs to shopping sprees, he's always the one to swipe his black card. He's so damn hot while doing it, you thought.

"Just imagined that hanging over my face, I had to buy it" He chuckles at your reasoning. You saying that so casually as if it was a very normal scenario.

"Is this a gift for me or for you?" he raises a brow at you, he does love the gift. He loves it even more now knowing why you bought it. He already know how this night will end up, making mental note to make that imagination of yours into reality.

"Well that's first part of your gift, close your eyes"

You wait for him to do so, guiding him to sit on his bed. He hears some rustling, tempted to take a peak but he knows you'll scold him.

After a few moment he feels your hands holding his arms, guiding him to stand again. "Keep them closed until I tell you to open okay, I'm serious Jae"

He chuckles when he hears the nickname, it always sounds so cute when it comes from you.

"Okay now open" you tell him.

And when he did, his jaw nearly dropped on the floor. Cute is not the word to describe you right now. Divine, heavenly maybe because he's about to take all his time to worship you.

He should've known there was a reason you wore that damn ribbon. He loved seeing you with it, he knows you know he loves it.

And now here you are, on his bed with nothing but that black silk ribbon in your hair. He will never look at it the same again, he might just end up with a boner everytime he sees you with it.

"You don't like your gift?" tilting your head to the side, hooking your foot around his leg to pull him closer.

"Goddamit, woman. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he breathes out, leaning down so he's face to face with you. Your arms automatically going around him, he can feel you warmth against him.

Is it because he's still all dressed up that why the room just got hotter or because the girl of his dream and reality is lying naked underneath him?

The latter. Definitely the latter.

"Satisfied with your second gift?" you ask him, leaving a trail of kisses from him jaw down his neck then back up until your noses were touching.

"If you wanted this damn necklace hanging over you that much, all you had to do was ask" he teases you, you can feel his hand on your body. It feels like he's leaving a trail of fire with the way your body is burning.

"This is a bad idea, now every time I see you with that necklace I'm afraid I'm going to jump you" he chuckles, finally leaning further down to capture your lips with his. Getting lost in each others kisses, at first you tried to fight for some control but Jaehyun is never one to back down. Not when it comes to you.

That got you giving up, like you always do, letting him explore all there is to explore. It wasn't new to you or him, but his kisses still felt like a man chasing after air.

When the two of you broke apart, you can see already how swollen his lips are. And the two of you haven't even started yet.

"You know what's a worse idea? that ribbon. Now everytime I see you wearing that, this is exactly where you'll end up"

You chuckle, pulling him down for another heated kiss, "Then plan succeeded"

#nct #story #tags #fic #nct fic #nct fluff #nct smut #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct au #nct jaehyun #jaehyun au #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun smut #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun imagine

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dashofmonsters · 5 months ago

Text

Dreamers & Delusions- Pt. 10

merman x female reader

You toss on whatever clothes you can find and meet Jes downstairs and hop in her car. She tries over and over again to call Arty but he doesn't answer.

"Fucking fae and phones, I swear he and I are going to have a long conversation about this later," Jes scowls.

"As long as we get there before she calls the cops we should be fine," you offer a hopeful half smile.

"If she didn't call them as soon as she saw them you mean," Jes speeds out of the beach area and into town.

You hold onto the handle for dear life and balance yourself as she makes a few sharp turns and runs a light. Your already upset stomach churns and gurgles so you close your eyes hoping that'll help it settle just a little.

The car comes to an abrupt halt and you fling your eyes and door open and hurl at the stop light. Jes curses and apologizes for the harsh driving but you wave it off. You know how severe this situation is and you'd rather vomit than have your merman you're in love with deported.

When the light turns green Jes floors it and rushes towards your neighborhood. You sigh in relief when you don't see any cop car lights but you do see your grandmother and that's just as bad.

Tao is towering over her, arms crossed and scowling down at her with his damn teeth bared. Arty isn't alone, he's got a few of his wild fae biker buddies with him and Jes' brother Kirk is standing on the side between Toa and your grandmother waiting to step in between them if he needs to.

The second Jes gets close enough you fly out of the car and stomp up to the lot. Everyone turns their heads towards you aside from Tao and your grandmother.

"Tao come on, we're getting my crap and leaving," you tell him and that snaps him from his stare off.

"Hold right there! I get no call, no fucking messages and you're moving out? How fucking dare you!" your grandmother yells at you. "I was worried but no, you were too caught up in your own fucking bullshit that you never once thought about me!"

You turn towards your grandmother and for the first time in your life, you really see her for what she is, a pathetic and conceited lonely woman.

"You really are sad, you know that?" you start. "You keep chasing away people who love you because everything has to be according to you. You parade yourself as a fucking saint for taking me in but not once have you treated it like a charity. I've paid to stay here, I'm nothing more than a tenant to you. So you have no fucking right to say you're worried about me when you're only worried about my goddamn mother fucking money!"

Everyone is silent, even your grandmother. Her eyes widen and her lips quiver but you don't spare her the space to talk.

"And you dare to insult the people who actually treat me with respect and like I'm a fucking person. You need to fucking check yourself because you're no cakewalk grandmama. Who the fuck do you even think you are? What authority do you think you hold to treat people like shit?" you ask as you step up to her.

Her eyes look you up and down and she raises her arm but you catch it. She tries to pull her arm away and attempts to slap you with her free hand but someone calls out and she freezes.

"Just fucking stop Cat, you're causing a scene," Gayle walks up in full designer looking like she stepped out of a fashion magazine.

Your grandmother stops struggling and her arms lose all strength.

"And here I was about to pick you both up for a late lunch," Gayla smiles and looks at you. "Care to fill me in buttercup? I think your grandmama needs a little granny nap. Just look at the poor thing, she looks stressed."

"I'm not stressed, Gayle. I'm wondering why my fucking granddaughter thinks she can move out without saying anything after she's been gone for days on end," your grandmother seethes.

And Gayle looks back at you, "Well I'm guessing she found a better place to stay at and as for her being gone for days on end, well she is an adult. Besides, we were young once and I do remember a certain someone running off to Mexico without telling her parents... What was it, three... No, it was five months. Loosen your asshole Cat and maybe that stick will finally fall the fuck out."

You purse your lips and look down as Gayle keeps landing one blow after another. You hadn't expected her to show up and least of all put your grandmother down so fucking hard.

Everyone here is silent, waiting for anyone one of you three to say something but your grandmother is silent and seething and you're too shocked and speechless.

"Come on Kitty Cat, let's go have some margaritas while your grandbaby moves on out. I know she'll be a dear and clean up after herself," Gayle shoves your grandmother inside and grins at you.

Jes slowly approaches your side and places a hand on your shoulder, "I don't know what they hell just happened, but that was fucking beautiful."

"That would be Gayle and thank the gods she got here when she did," you smile and shake your head before looking around for Tao.

His eyes meet yours and you beckon him over, "Alright, I guess we can get moving."

Things go fast from there on out. You and Jes pack up your clothes and toiletries while the guys move the little bit of furniture that you have and pack your books and such into the boxes. You tidy up any messes that are left behind as Gayle escorts your grandmother out of the house and away for drinks.

Once everything's been loaded into the moving van, everyone makes their way to Tao's house. You and Jes make a pit stop to grab some charcoal and sodas to celebrate your move out move in situation.

Arty, Kirk and the others move everything into the living room while Tao and Jes prep for the barbeque and you kind of just sit around. Word moved around that you're still healing from getting dragged out to sea and no one will allow you to lift a finger.

Kirk swings by a few times to ask where certain boxes can go and a few of Arty's friends check in to see if you're alright and you smile and play off that just sitting around isn't driving you up the wall.

Tao comes by ever so often to make sure you're ok but you feel like there's some distance between the both of you right now. You start over thinking things, like maybe he's nervous about talking about who he chose or maybe he's trying to draw out the move in so he doesn't have to talk to you about it today.

You start to silently spiral into your darkest thoughts as the late afternoon drifts into the evening. Tao mans the barbeque pit that you had no idea that he had while Jes keeps you company with snacks and work gossip. You try your best to be present but there's this nagging feeling that something's not right.

Tao eventually comes upstairs and brings you food, his touch linger just a little longer than it should on your hand before he quickly slips away. You feel a strange chill and try not to cry over your food.

It smells good but you're too upset to eat and Jes can tell.

"Talk girly pop, you look like you're about to fall apart right now," she nudges you and you set the paper plate aside.

"Did he say anything to you? Did Tao mention anyth-"

"Ok I'm going to stop you right there. I told you he told me everything earlier today. And I mean everything. I think you need to chill out princess, I know it's hard for you right now but just trust me ok?" she looks at you and picks up your plate and hands it back to you.

"Now then, you're going to eat and whenever your merjerk gets his happy ass up here we'll tell him you're tired and I'll help kick everyone out and then you'll get a little one on one time with him. Sounds good?" She smiles and takes a big bite out of her burger.

You stare at your food for a few moments before you slowly dig in. After the second bite you realize just how hungry you really are and kind of tune out the rest of the world as you scarf down your food.

After a while Tao does come up and Jes tells him you're tired and that she'll gather everyone up and head out. Jes hugs you goodbye and makes a quick exit leaving you and Tao alone for the first time in hours.

"I uh... I should probably go rinse off before I head to bed," you shrug.

But when you go to stand up, Tao ends up scooping you up in his arms and just holds you for a good long while.

"Uh Tao?" you tap his shoulder and he holds you tighter.

"Sorry... I- I'm so sorry," he apologizes out of nowhere.

"Wait for what?" you ask.

"I almost did something unforgiveable... I almost... I almost let my instincts take over and I-I didn't want to hurt her but I couldn't stand just being there in front of her... I don't know what would have happened if you didn't show up when you did," Tao admits as he presses his face against your neck.

You remember how tense he looked glaring daggers at your grandmother but you never would have guessed that he would have gone aggro.

"It's ok I guess, you did hold back and it looked like Kirk was ready to stop whatever smackdown might have happened," you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

Tao squeezes you and shakes his head, "No, it's not ok... I could have gotten deported if things escalated. If that happens, I wouldn't be able to see you again."

Hearing that makes your heart stop for a moment. He shouldn't say sweet things like that to you, he shouldn't make you feel this important when you're probably not the one he chose.

In that moment you feel yourself becoming cold, distancing your heart away from Tao. It'll be easier if I think he's already rejected me, you reason with yourself. Just act like friends and only friends.

"Yeah, yeah... don't do shit to get deported, but like I said, you held back. All's well that ends well," you shrug and wiggle out of his arms. "I'm gonna jump in the shower and head to bed, I'm worn the fuck out."

Tao looks at you like you've just burned him, "Didn't you want to talk once you got moved in?"

You look around and shrug, "Yeah, I mean I still gotta put everything up and figure out where to put my furniture."

Tao inhales sharply and you see his jaw tick, "Right, of course... Try to get some rest then."

Smiling, you dismiss yourself and head towards the bathroom. Once you've closed and locked the door, you fall to the floor and crumple. You silently cry into your hands feeling bother relieved and horrified. You're free of your grandmother but now you've gone and got yourself into this new mess.

After sometime and nearly fall asleep on the floor, you finally move to go shower off. You quickly rinse off and wrap yourself in a towel to head to the nest room but you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Tao standing outside the bathroom.

His dour expression makes your already cold skin shiver. His eyes practically glow in rage and you see the tips on his claws digging into his skin.

Before you can ask him what's wrong he grabs your wrist and tugs you along to the nest room. He tells you to hurry and get dressed and to grab a pair of shoes. You ask why and all he says is that you two need to talk, tonight.

You contemplate taking your time getting dressed but you feel like if you do that then Tao might come bursting through the door and pick out whatever for you to wear. With great reluctance you tug on a sweatshirt and pajama pants and grab a pair of sandals.

When you shuffle out of the room Tao beckons you to follow him and he leads you out of the house.

"Tao where are we going? Can't we just go back inside and talk?" you ask as you follow him down the stairs.

"No," he says flatly and once you're down the stairs he takes your hand and guides you wherever the hell it is he's taking you.

After a few minutes you enter the beach area he works at. He takes you to the tower and before you know it, he's stripping down to his swim trunks.

"Really, what the hell is going on T-"

"Leave your sandals here, I'll put them up there with my clothes," he says, cutting you off.

You gape at him and stand your ground, "How about you tell me why the hell you dragged me all the way out here to just talk?"

"Because..." Tao exhales and turns to you, finally looking at you since you exited the bathroom. "Out there we can't run away, we won't be able to avoid each other and whatever has to be said. I can't keep pretending like everything between us is ok when I keep hearing you cry knowing I might have caused any of that grief."

You look out towards the ocean and feel your gut sink. It felt too soon to go back out there, your wounds itch at the thought. You feel your chest tighten and breathing becomes just a little harder.

"No, please Tao, not there... Not yet," you plead with him.

His stern look softens a bit and he lowers himself to kneel in front of you, "There's nothing in there to be afraid of, I promise."

"I-I can't do it, please, anywhere else," you beg again.

Tao lowers his head and groans before hoisting you up into his arms. For a moment you think he's going to walk you into the ocean but he just keeps walking.

His pacing is slower than usual and he holds you with a gentleness that seems out of place with how pissed off he looks. After a minute or two you end up dozing off in his arms. It's a light sleep and one you're easily woken from.

Tao sets you down ever so carefully on soft sweet smelling grass and you almost fall asleep again but he holds you up right and keeps your attention on him.

"We need to talk," he tells you again.

"I know," you say, looking down at the grass before looking around at your surroundings.

You'd been here before, back when the pixies were celebrating and you and Tao danced right into the ocean.

"Is here fine?" he asks, cupping your face. His eyes now glowing in the moonlight search your face to make sure you're comfortable.

You shrug and look away from him, "Yeah...yeah it's fine."

Tao sighs and sits across from you, "I used to think you were annoying you know."

You roll your eyes and glare at him.

"To be fair I used to think everyone was annoying, and then we started talking... I started to get to know you and you slowly opened up my world. I had been here for two years before I met you and the only people I really interacted with are those that I had to," Tao starts, his voice softer than usual.

"It felt odd how quickly I opened up to you. I was worried that you'd find me too strange or that I...I wasn't someone you'd want to be around. And then when we became friends it just felt even more unreal. I had a shoal mate again, I had someone in my life that didn't have to be there but they chose to," Tao smiles, though his eyes look sad.

"And then we made that agreement... to date each other. You're grandmother would leave you alone and I would get some sort of practice on how to romance a human if my fated mate ended up being one. I think that's when things got more complicated," He sighs and takes your hand.

For a moment you don't register that he's touching you, that he's gently squeezing your fingers. Your mind is too deep into readying your heart for the impending rejection.

Tao squeezes your hand again and places a hand on your cheek, "We are not here to further any pain, this I swear... so please, look at me."

You think about shoving away from Tao but that just might prolong this interaction. You know facing it head on will be the best course of action, rip it off like a band aid and be done with this so you can go cry into a pillow when he's not around, preferably while he's at work. Gods know that he'd be super obnoxious about you being emotional.

So you look at him, your eyes heavy and feeling dry from crying for however long you did earlier.

"Little by little I felt this strong desire, this need to be closer to you. I thought at first that it was my natural and instinctual obligation to protect the only shoal mate I have. But then things started to change, you were more than just this woman I saw on the beach ever so often or a friend I'd see nearly everyday. It got to the point where I couldn't stop thinking about you and-" Tao stops, his voice having grown horse and the hands that are holding you start to shake.

Your heart breaks and melts all at once as you watch Tao come undone right in front of you. His eyes are shut tight as it looks like he's fighting the tears that are slipping from underneath his lashes. His teeth grind and his grip on your hand tightens as he takes a long and shaky breath.

"I never meant to hurt you... I just, I couldn't tell you... couldn't let you go... But I didn't know, I didn't know what I was feeling and then I saw what I was doing to you... I felt like I didn't deserve any sort of forgiveness... I still don't think I deserve it... Not after what I've done," He lowers his head and tries to take his hands back but you don't let him.

"What did you do Tao?" you ask, your voice firm but just as emotional. "What did you do?"

Tao tries again to take his hands away but you won't let him budge.

"Finish what you started! You wanted to talk? We're talking Tao! What did you do?" you say once more, getting up in his face this time.

Tao tries to move back but you follow until you're pretty much straddling him and fisting his shirt.

"You're not going anywhere Tao. Fuck me trying to run away you hypocrite! What are you afraid of? That I'd hate you or leave you or some shit? News flash buddy, you're my best fucking friend and I can't afford to move out so just say whatever you fucking did so we can just be done and over wi-"

"I knew," Tao says, still looking away from you.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific than that," you sneer.

"Jes told me a long while ago how you felt about me," he adds.

You feel your heart sink as his shirt slips from your grasp.

"She told me that it was just a crush, you being somewhat interested in me and I... I chose to ignore it. She told me again and again how you felt and I kept choosing to ignore it until she slapped me across the face one day and... I didn't know what I had done, what my choice in ignoring your feelings had done to you, to us..." He finally looks at you and the whites of his eyes have turned black.

"You knew... And you ignored it?" your lips quiver as you're uncertain how to feel right now but for some reason you can't help but to laugh.

You laugh so hard you start tearing up.

"You fucking knew I had some sort of feeling for you but chose to just fucking ignore them, wow!" you chuckle. "That has got to be the most on brand thing you could have done being who you are. You're either really fucking stupid or just that dense!"

You looks down at Tao after coming down from your moment of hysteria and see that he's in total shock, "Well what was it? Stupid or dense?"

He blinks and before you know it he's rolling you both over until your laying in the grass and he's on top, "Probably both, stupid for ignoring your feelings and too dense to understand them. And I don't expect any forgiveness for what I've done but you deserved to know the truth before I tell you who I chose."

You hate this side of him, being way too honest and taking accountability even though he was about to run away. You want to stay mad at him, you want to kick him in the groin and graffiti his lifeguard tower but that won't take away the ache in your chest.

"I don't care about that anymore Tao. It's obvious that you feel bad for playing with my feelings and so on, so let's just leave it at that. We can pretend we never fake dated and just be friends and shoal mates or whatever. Your love life has nothing to do with me," you shrug and do your best to swallow your emotions.

"Unfortunately for you, my love life has everything to do with you," Tao sits up, his golden eyes gleaming and glowing marks appear on his neck and torso. The moon is in an obnoxiously perfect position where it's haloing his head making him look terrifying and somewhat godlike. You feel your heart pounding as he reaches down and gently pulls you up to your feet.

For the first time in a long while you feel Tao towering over you in both a comforting and intimidating way until he kneels before you and takes your hands.

"I've hurt you, ruined your trust in me, and destroyed whatever relationship we had. And now, as you humans say, I'm about to add salt to the wound. The one that I chose, the one that my heart chose, that person is you," Tao confesses.

You shake your head as you start to feel faint.

"I wanted you as my mate," he says.

Mate...

That was the last word you heard before you passed out.

#monster boyfriend #monster x girl #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #merman #Tao the merman #merman x reader #monster romance #merman boyfriend #monster love #merman x female reader #monster boyfriend oc #monster bf #slow burn #slow burn romance

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wukong-s-only-wife5000 · 1 year ago

Note

Aaaaa I love your writing so much omg!!<3

Can I perhaps get a Monkey King: Reborn. Where him and the reader get into a argument, and he says something he doesn’t mean to out of complete anger. Making the reader really upset and running off. Than maybe something happens to the reader and Wukong feels hella bad But they eventually make up?🥺💖

So I guess this one would kinda be like where he gets mad? Sorry I know this is more angst and comfort. I just thought more details would be helpful. Anyways sorry again if this doesn’t really fit anything. ;<;

He's Mad: Reborn!Wukong.

Pair: Reborn Wukong x chubby!Reader.

Word Count: 1505.

Content/Trigger Warnings: insecurities are triggered.

Authors Notes: No need to apologize! This is an amazing one. I really enjoyed writing this one even though it hurt my heart a bit, thanks so much for the submission. <3 Hope you enjoy!

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It doesn't take much to get Sun Wukong angry; especially when you're the target of discussion. He's overprotective and very possessive over you, it's to be expected, you are his baby after all. He wants to make sure you're looked after, protected and cared for; most importantly know that you're cared for. However, today’s anger wasn't just like every other day mad… no, no, today you were the target of his anger, and obviously you knew better than to take his shit sitting down.

Now, granted, you'd agree that the situation you had gotten into was your fault, and you already felt bad that you put everyone else in danger… It wasn't really your fault that the jaguar demon thought it was a good idea to mess with you because he thought you were a ‘weak and defenseless little pork thing’.

You had to admit that it triggered you a lot, it really hit home and maybe something might have been said about him being a leopard wanna be that he… didn't take kindly to and tried to attack you before Wukong set him right. Yes, your boyfriend beat the shit outta him and sent him running. It's just that Wukong snapping at you like he did afterwards was the last thing you needed.

“Look, I get that-” you started, but he cut you off.

“I knew this would happen,” he chuckled and shook his head. You could clearly tell that that chuckle wasn't a humorous one, but one that warned he was losing it. However, his statement confused you, and you narrowed your eyes on him.

What did he mean he ‘knew this would happen’?

“What? What do you mean you knew it would happen?” you questioned him, though in your gut, you could tell that was where you really messed up.

“I knew this would happen,” he repeated, this time looking at you with that glare that he had never shot you before. “You never do anything right! You always have to find some way, shape, or form to say or do something that pisses off something bigger and stronger than you. Then I’m always the one who has to come save you because you keep screwing things up and getting yourself into unnecessary trouble! For once in your life can you just do as you're told and stay where I can see you?!”

“Not once have I ever asked you to do anything of the sort for me… but since I'm such a burden to you,” you clenched your fists and lowered your head a bit. “I’ll just leave, then!” you yelled before you stormed off away from him.

“Shit…” he grumbled as he watched you walk away from him. The sight immediately sobering him up from his previous rage. “(Y/n), wait!” but… you were gone. You may be thick and short, but you were fast.

Wukong continued to growl and grumble curses as he paced up and down. Him and his big mouth! How could he say that to you? He's such a knucklehead. He tried his best to get his emotions in check, but the thought of you being mad at him was just pissing him off more. He sat against a boulder, staring out at the cliff view with an intense glare, as if the view was to blame for him getting mad in the first place. He'd put himself in a temporary timeout so he could cool down before finding you.

You yourself, well… you hated that the tears kept on falling no matter how many times you'd wiped them away. You knew Wukong didn't mean what he said to you, but that didn't mean that his words hurt any less. What made it hurt the worst was that he wasn't exactly wrong. You did have a tendency to get yourself and everyone else in danger, but it wasn't like you did it on purpose!

Hearing Wujing unlikely or Pigsy more likely say that wouldn't have hurt as much, but hearing your boyfriend say something like that? It shattered you like the most fragile glass in the world. You had to admit, you didn't exactly handle his outburst any better.

“Real mature, (Y/n)… storming off with your tail between your legs,” you grumbled to yourself as you finally found a spot and plopped down. “I'm such an idiot…”

The tears that filled your eyes and blurred your vision finally continued to fall like a waterfall. Salty tears that fell down your face and felt never-ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don't know how much time really passed, but by the time you had decided to

“There you are, where have you been?!” Pigsy was the first to chastise you with his fists on his hips, but he immediately shut up hearing Wukong growl at him.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” you cursed internally when your voice broke.

“Are you alright?” Tang was the first to ask, never really showing it, but you could tell he was a bit worried about you.

“I'm fine, just a bit tired. I guess I fell asleep after my walk,” you lied through your teeth, though it was a lie that all but Wukong believed without question.

The Monkey King watched you walk over to sit by the fireplace at the centre of the camp. Meat dinner appeared to be a fish monster that you figured Wukong caught whilst he was out blowing off the rest of his steam, which was true. You knew him well. No matter how good the cooked fish smelled, you just didn't have an appetite and the thought of eating food made you feel sick.

You heard Wujing telling a story or talking about some legend as he always did, but you didn't pay attention and neither did Wukong. Your mind was somewhere not even you knew the location of, and Wukong’s attention was rotated from you to his meal then straight back to you. It hurt his heart knowing that he had hurt you in his rage, but it worried him even more seeing you hadn't touched any of the food.

Once everyone finally decided to get some sleep, you and Wukong were left outside.

“You're not eating,” he spoke.

“Not hungry,” you said softly, but of course your stomach chose then to make the loudest protest that made Wukong huff through his nose in amusement.

“Yeah, I can tell,”

You wanted to smile or chuckle, but you surprisingly managed to keep to yourself. Without a word, Wukong sat beside you, an action that made your heart race every single time… this time was no exception. He gave you a bowl with the fish meat and bread, small but filling. The rumble in your stomach made him win, so you took the bowl with a soft ‘thank you’. His elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, his eyes were focused on the firewood as you ate quietly.

“What’d that bastard say to you?” he glanced at you mid-bite of your toasted bread. When you told him, he was seething, but didn't bother to say anything else as you continued to eat.

He felt like a bigger fool than he did before. He knew he should have asked your side of the story, but he was just so pissed off that you almost got attacked that he wasn't thinking straight.

“(Y/n)-” he started once you were finished and set the bowl aside. Just saying your name, you could tell he was desperate, something else that made your heart race.

“Don't bother,” you said softly, shaking your head a bit. “I know…”

“No,” he looked at you with anguish on his face as he sat on the floor, his hands held yours on your lap. He looked so pathetic and vulnerable, it broke your heart to see him like this. “I shouldn't have said that to you, I was out of line. What's worse, I hurt your feelings and made you cry,”

“Wukong-” your voice was soft, but he cut you off.

“I'm so sorry, Peach.” he pulled you onto his lap and nuzzled your shoulder and neck with his face, his fur tickling your skin. “I'm so so so sorry,”

“It's okay,” you couldn't help but smile at his behaviour. He continued to nuzzle you before he pulled you to straddle him, and he continued nuzzling and kissing your neck. You sighed heavily as sweat dropped from your forehead… You were stuck…

“Wukong-”

“No,” he immediately declined, holding you close to his chest, not willing to let you go.

His right arm held you firmly against his chest while his left hand intertwined with yours, his thumb caressed your hand tenderly. You sighed once more. You fell into a trap… Now he won't be letting you go till he thinks you've forgiven him, even though you already have.

“I love you, you dummy,” you smiled and hugged his torso.

“I love you so much more, peach,” he said softly and placed a kiss on your forehead.

#request #x reader #monkey king #sun wukong #wukong #reborn sun wukong #reborn #monkey king reborn #reborn wukong #reborn wukong x reader #x chubby reader #sun wukong x chubby reader

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natti-ice · 1 year ago

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Night Moves- Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of eating, established relationship, based on the song “night moves” by Bob Sager

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

You sat in the passenger seat of the impala humming along to the song on the radio, you hadn't heard it in a while so you forgot how much you liked it. You mindlessly stared off into the dark trees on the almost abandoned highway, remembering the first time you ever heard this song.

You were abruptly brought out of your daydream when the song changed which was weird because there were at least 2 minutes left.

"Hey, I was listening to that" you said turning your attention to your boyfriend in the driver seat.

"Really?" Dean questioned "Why?"

"Because I like the song, Bob Sager is a legend." You replied

"Yeah obviously, but out of all songs, 'night moves' is your favorite?" He said with a light chuckle, lowering the volume of 'ramble on' that replaced Sager.

"Yes, actually it is" you were ready to defend this song with your life "Is that a problem?" You incited

This was a common occurrence throughout the course of your relationship, you never argued about anything serious but when it came to music all cards are on the table. There were just certain things about music you couldn't agree on, sometimes the bickering would go on for days before you two would eventually kiss and make up.

You knew this song was different though, but he didn't. He didn't know the significance of this song but you were going to change that before this went too far, it already continued into the diner where you two were having your weekly date night.

By now the whole conversation has become about how Led Zeppelin is unappreciated, somehow all music conversations lead to Led Zeppelin. You waited for Dean to finish his second piece of pie so you'd know you'll have his full attention.

"Do you really not know why I like the song so much?" You questioned hoping maybe he'd remember. He shook his head no, you sighed. "The night you first said you loved me, it was playing in the background" You explained

Dean's eyes went wider than you'd ever seen, all the memories of that night flooded his brain, the bar, the smell, the atmosphere, what he was wearing, what you were wearing, he remembered it all so how did he forget this one detail?

"That's right!" he shouted grabbing the attention of the only other customer and the waitress, "some drunk guy yelled out 'this is my jam!' across the bar right before I said it. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot" there was regret in his voice but fondness in his eyes. That was the best night of Dean's life.

"Now you can see why I like it so much, it reminds me of us." You smiled at him

He smiled back, "Yeah, still a shit song" he shrugged then dodged the balled-up napkin you threw at him.

Eventually, you both started making your way back to the Impala, you walked out of the diner hand in hand. Right before you made it to the car you heard it…

"Workin' on our night moves, trying to lose the awkward teenage blues" Dean sang under his breath. You immediately stopped in your tracks, causing him to do the same. He sighed before looking over at you, he knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this.

You raised your eyebrows at him, a big grin slapped across your face

"Shut up" he rolled his eye, a smile pulling at his lips

You smiled, leaned over and pecked his cheek, then whispered in his ear "I don't think I will."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x gn!reader #dean winchester blurb #dean winchester headcanon #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction

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explorer-of-art · 5 months ago

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my speculation for twst x nightmare before christmas

My thoughts based on what I've observed based on summaries. I am bad at connecting my words to my thoughts and can only hope to telepathy-osmosis the thoughts to you after this. Everything is under the cut or else you'll have to do a ton of scrolling.

Part 1 from what I'm seeing in tweets before full translations and more story parts come out: The gang gets isekai'd because plot says they must and lose their shit over getting isekai'd (this isn't Yuu's first time getting isekai'd lmao). They meet Skully J Graves who might be really physically affectionate and is the odd one out in his town. They meet Jack Skellington, Zero, and Sally. Skully fanboys over Jack. Halloween is in 3 days, Jack has a problem where he wants to celebrate Halloween in a new way, Skully opts to help (ominous great Halloween sentence and all), Sally has a bad feeling, a town meeting is called.

Skully J Graves

Skully idolizes Jack Skellington and wants to show others Halloween by celebrating (possibly in his way) like how Jack wanted to show others Christmas by hijacking it. In Nightmare Before Christmas, the town also looks up to Jack but are oblivious to his feelings about Halloween (Jack's Lament), but Sally isn't.

Unlike Jack who is beloved in Halloweentown, Skully is alienated from his peers back in his town. His schoolmates don't share his interests so he brushes them off. Idia was already an SSR in Glorious Masquerade but if he were SSR here, he'd end up calling himself out for going "us vs them" (Idia vs normies) when it comes to "if we don't have the same interests, we have zero common ground and will never see eye to eye" during the climax. Malleus shares his interest in gargoyles with Yuu who unconditionally accepts and befriends him, and he was alienated because top 5 most powerful mages, status, and *insert book 7*. Jade likes mushrooms, Azul likes networking and going "helping you will be helpful for me", Riddle is a voice of reason (kind of), Trey handles Riddle's temper (Labwear vignette) and has a dentist thing, Epel and his dislike for being called cute, Vil takes feedback from Rook and can impose on others, Jamil has to put up with Kalim who was oblivious to his plight, Leona and Book 2. All that is just me connecting the NRC boys with either Skully or the plot and characters of Nightmare Before Christmas. Skully is a type of separate from the NRC boys, not being in NRC while everyone else is, greeting the gang via kiss, being very full of whimsy (let's hold hands and walk in the woods!), being the youngest (just turned 16 so he's baby), and looks up to Jack while the others don't know him at all. Yuu is alienated by being magicless in a magic school and being from another world but they grow less alienated as they make friends and accustom to being a student (part of your worlddddd). Too bad Rook isn't here. I want to see how Rook and Skully would interact. Rook, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia can't be in the event to make Skully even more alienated in the group.

Isekai and Escapism

The NRC gang get isekai'd and until the rest of the story comes out to confirm or deny, Skully may have been isekai'd too. One thing that came to mind is that there's a lot of isekai stories in anime/manga. There's a lot of escapism in anime and isekai is one of them. The protagonist could have a miserable life or a dream they want to achieve before they get yeeted into another world. What direction the isekai goes varies but they can go into wish-fulfillment, power fantasy, playing around with the concept of people getting thrown into another world, anything. The author/protagonist might project onto the setting. I don't want to make the paragraphs longer than necessary so I'll leave it at that.

There's western isekai (portal fantasy) like The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Narnia, Peter Pan, Infinity Train, The Owl House, or Amphibia. I haven't seen Infinity Train, Owl House, or Amphibia, but I know Infinity Train is the "you need therapy" isekai where even though they get to go home for a specific reason, time still passed and everything that happened still happened. No memory wipe, no dream, that person was missing for who-knows-how-long. From what I've picked up about Owl House, Luz is on a completely different wavelength from everyone, peers and adults. And something about wanting to be understood if I recall correctly? I know she comes off as neurodivergent to viewers (idk if she's confirmed to be ND) which is why this tangent about western isekai is here. In my head, there's a connection with Skully's character because alienation from others and having interests that others don't.

Anyway, escapism. Remember Skully's idolization for Jack and Halloween? Now throw in Jack's problem being an opening for Skully to indulge in his interest. Eliza from Ghost Marriage had a goal to marry a Prince Charming which is unrealistic while being inconsiderate of others (kicking out everyone on campus for her wedding, kidnapping Idia), Skully will likely do something selfish while carrying out his fantasy. How far that goes, we'll find out eventually. Will this event story have something to say about escapism in isekai? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Based on Nightmare Before Christmas

Film summary: Jack, a beloved figure of the town, is bored of the repetition in Halloween (Jack's Lament) so when he sees Christmas (What's This?), he is interested and wants to share that with others. He tries to explain it to the town and recreate/celebrate it despite not understanding the meaning behind the holiday (Town Meeting). Halloweentown is about harmless but fun frights ("that's our job but we're not mean, in our town of Halloween"), Christmas has to do with presents and wintry cheer. Sally tries to warn Jack that it won't work out but he disregards it. Jack hijacks Christmas by kidnapping and impersonating Santa, sends presents that bring scares instead of cheer which warrants him getting shot down. Jack reflects that he messed up (Poor Jack) but had one heck of a time ("And for a minute, why, I even touched the sky! And at least I left some stories they can tell") and sheds the Santa costume, returning to being himself ("That's right! I AM THE PUMPKIN KING!"). Jack saves Santa and Sally, Santa calls him out for his actions, Santa restores Christmas, Jack and Sally reach the romance stage. Jack is the anti-villain of the story and Oogie Boogie is there because Santa has to be held somewhere and having a worse villain would make Jack look less bad in comparison. Jack wanted to have fun, do something new! He was just oblivious and inconsiderate of others! (looks at Kalim) What is the moral of the story? What did Jack learn? Listen to others instead of getting overconfident, hear what they have to say, be open to feedback.

If the event story is going to be a rehash of the film's plot like the Stitch event recreating Stitch vs Gantu or how the Books recreate the films' plot beats, Skully will probably hijack the holiday into his image that doesn't see eye-to-eye with Halloweentown's version or comes at the cost of others. You've heard of "never meet your heroes" because their true self is not the exact same as their public persona, this case could go in the direction of "PARASOCIALLLL PARASOCIALLL YOU NEED TO LOG OFF" or some kind of compromise. The ending might have a "that was sick but NEVER do that again" moment.

I want Yuu to be active in this event, even as the "Sally" who tries to reach out to Skully and voice their concerns, but I know the SSRs will be given more focus so I'm half-expecting Yuu to get sidelined. Glorious Masquerade had an opportunity for Yuu, the immune one and foil to Rollo's hatred for magic, to be proactive and directly confront Rollo but got nerfed or else the story would be cut short. Also, Yuu is not an SSR (yeah the SSR gang can confront Rollo BUT LET YUU DO THAT TOO, THERE WAS A VERY INTERESTING DICHOTOMY BETWEEN THEM)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst spoilers #skully j graves #lost in the book with tim burton's the nightmare before christmas #twst jp #twst jp spoilers

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darkeraurora · 5 months ago

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Admissions Chapter 1 - Unexpected

This chapter is SFW. Fluff and filler, lots of laying the necessary groundwork, and introducing our sweet boy to original FMC from another story of mine. Also in this story Soap was shot in the head but through the magic of fanfiction he's alive and Simon didn't lose him.

Word count: 4533

Before you read: This story has a huge time gap in it, I'm working to catch up. Between working fulltime, running a nonprofit, and CPTSD making my life a little extra entertaining from time to time, writing and editing can be a little slow. So I beg your patience.

Themes explored:

The human need for connection

Change is hard but necessary

Your traumas do not define you or your worth

Healing is nonlinear and individualistic

Family is who and what you make it

You deserve to take up space in this world

You are not responsible for the actions of others

Accepting help is not weakness

MASTERLIST

“Laswell’s sending new coordinates. Hope you packed something warm,” Price’s voice crackled over the radio.

“For the fucking desert?!” Ghost snapped while tossing aside blood-soaked gauze, pressing more to the side of Soap’s head.

Gaz coughed from where he sat on Ghost’s other side, keeping pressure on his own injury – a round he’d taken to the back of his shoulder. “S-sure did Cap… along with my wool knickers and Santa suit.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. Might have smacked him upside the head as well if Gaz wasn’t injured. He looked the sergeant over. Garrick seemed to be hanging in there, but his complexion was a bit off and his breaths labored. What really worried the lieutenant was the lack of an exit wound. That meant the bullet was still lodged inside, who knew where or what it had hit. A shot to the back of the shoulder could be serious, particularly when it hadn’t gone clean through.

They’d slowed the bleeding, but it wouldn’t stop.

His attention returned to Soap lying on the floor of the plane. The gauze was soaked through again.

They needed to hurry.

He couldn’t lose them.

“Get yourselves sorted. I’ll be there in a few days.”

At that, Ghost’s headset went silent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Holy fucking shit it was windy.

The plane finally touched down, the force jolting all three men on board.

Medics came rushing on board almost immediately. Good. Simon could relax a little.

Or so he would’ve thought.

But despite the skull’s burning death stare, continuously telling them to fuck off because he was fine goddammit, these people would not fucking stop pestering him. Yelling at him, asking the same questions over and over, and trying to pull him up from his seat… Simon was a hair’s breadth from losing his shit and reducing everyone around him to nothing but a greasy smear beneath his boots.

“I know you all are not over here annoying the ever-loving shit outta hurt people.”

A disapproving female voice standing out among all the male ones cut through the chatter. While not a male soldier's loud, barking voice, it carried a confident authority nonetheless. The wall of people surrounding the angry Brit opened revealing a short, and very obviously annoyed, female.

“Are you hurt bad enough that you’re about to die on me?” she asked, gesturing at him without touching him, for which he was absurdly appreciative. Not that he’d show it.

“No,” Ghost loudly snapped.

If his rudeness offended her, she didn’t seem to care. “You heard him,” she waved off the people crowding around the skull. “Get moving, the hell is everyone standing around for?”

With Soap and Gaz already on their way and the annoying gaggle of people leaving him alone, thanks to her, Simon began making his way out of the plane. Ice-cold winds stole the breath from his lungs and stung the inside of his nose.

No they definitely hadn’t packed for this.

Gripping onto the side, he swung down from the plane, barely stifling a groan at the sharp pain shooting up his leg. He’d been able to balance most of his weight on his good foot as he made his way to the door, but once outside there wasn’t anything to hold onto for support, and he came up with several new swears at the impact. Somehow over the wind and plane's engines, the woman heard and turned back.

Ghost couldn’t hide his limp quickly enough. “Come on Lieutenant.” She came up to his side and slid under his arm. Simon could hardly put weight on his leg by that point and was forced to grab onto her shoulder to maintain balance. “I’m gonna grab your belt, okay? So I have a better grip.”

He couldn’t bring himself to argue, though he wanted to. An arm wrapped around his lower back and took hold of his belt, the position keeping her pressed firmly against him and his arm across the back of her shoulders.

Simon just knew he was the color of a goddamn tomato under his mask, fucking hell. Thankfully he’d chosen his full skull mask this time and his face was completely hidden, his eyeblack taking care of the little skin left exposed.

With slow, hobbling steps the massive lieutenant and the tiny female headed into the med bay. He tensed the moment the doors shut behind him. The woman must have felt it because she brought them to a stop at the closest corner. Ghost’s arm rested on the fire extinguisher to keep himself up and as much of his weight off his foot as he possibly could. The medic disappeared behind a curtain a moment before returning with a chair helping him over to it and making sure he could sit down without crashing to the floor. “You’re out of the way over here so no one should bother you. Not for a while at least. I’m gonna take care of your guys then I’ll be back, okay?”

He grunted indifferently in response and looked away. Her bright amber eyes and sweet voice made him feel… different.

That irritated him.

And he was already extremely fucking irritated as it was.

Eventually the organized chaos around Soap and Gaz dissipated, leaving the two resting on gurneys for whatever came next. The Brit had begun pondering making his way over, but someone with a short white lab coat came waltzing his direction. Pale, baby-faced, and with an annoyingly snooty expression the Brit instantly disliked. Ghost swore he could still see the silver spoon in his mouth.

“Strip,” he demanded.

What in the absolute fuck.

Not even so much as an offer for dinner first.

“Piss off,” Ghost replied.

The little prick puffed up like a balloon. “Shirt off Soldier!”

The black-eyed skull glared back at him. After a mission gone sideways and his team injured, the lieutenant was not in the mood for this. Plus it was a stupid request anyway; he had a hurt foot for christ’s sake.

“Th-that was an order! Shirt off! Before I call the MPs and have you reprimanded for refusal to obey!”

The Brit growled, beyond done with this petulant, overgrown child. Who the hell talked like that anyway? “Piss off!”

Reclined on a stretcher in a bay across the room, Soap was awake. Groggy as he was, he’d still recognize that grouchy, growly voice anywhere. The voice Ghost used when he was about to slaughter someone, and knowing full well LT would be extra pissy after a failed mission, he called for the attention of someone behind his curtain.

Simon’s periphery caught Soap’s movement; Johnny gesturing and talking to someone he couldn't see. He couldn’t even begin to process his relief when the female medic’s head popped around the curtain and she began walking over, looking exasperated and rolling her eyes.

The obnoxious asshole in front of Ghost snapped his fingers at two MPs near the door. “Get him out, drag him out if you have to!” his voice cracked.

“Actually boys,” the woman interrupted, “if you could remove him that’d be great.” The MPs nodded, barely concealing their grins, and began herding the little prick through the door. “Thanks guys!” she smiled as her attention returned to the seated lieutenant. “I’m really sorry about him. Now that he has an MD after his name he thinks he’s the shit.” She hooked the toe of her shoe around the leg of a rolling stool and dragged it over, sitting in front of the angry skull. “My name’s Sereza, what’s yours?”

Sereza, hm?

The Brit stared a moment. “Ghost,” he replied curtly.

“Your team is all good. They’re stable and comfortable, now it’s your turn, cool?”

The skull nodded. Knowing his sergeants weren’t about to die on him, Simon was okay(ish) with his injury getting looked at. His heart accelerated as she kneeled down in front of him. Then he remembered – he had a hurt foot.

The apples of his cheeks began to burn and the front of his pants felt a bit snug as she settled in front of his legs. Something he really didn’t want to happen just now. Simon clenched his jaw, feeling utterly disgusted with himself. The poor girl was just doing her job; she didn’t deserve that.

Control yourself! Fucking hell...

Seemingly oblivious - or at least he hoped to God she was - Sereza gingerly lifted his leg and rested the heel of his boot on her thigh.

The Brit mentally chuckled at seeing that his boot was as wide as her leg. Bloody hell she’s a tiny little thing. The brief lift in his spirits dulled when the sole of his boot left muddy streaks on her pants though, leaving him feeling guilty and wondering if he should offer to buy her new ones.

Sereza picked apart the knot and pulled the lace out of his boot before gently easing it off. There was some mild discomfort as she carefully pulled off his sock but it was by far the gentlest touch Ghost had experienced in a very long time. Possibly ever, now that he thought about it. Her tender but sure grip supported his ankle in the perfect position as she leaned over and inspected him. Light touches and cool, soft skin relaxed the lieutenant beyond measure. Even with the occasional slightly uncomfortable manipulation of his foot, Simon found he was at serious risk of becoming a puddle right there in her chair.

Not very becoming of a lieutenant.

If either of the sergeants was around he knew they’d make some stupid wisecrack about him having a foot fetish. Fuck’s sake…

His trouser leg being pushed up his calf slightly brought Ghost’s gaze back down to the woman. He briefly worried she’d push it up too far, exposing the point where his scars began, but she moved the material just enough and continued examining him with a neutral expression.

“Congrats Lieutenant, you fractured your foot,” she finally said. Ghost grunted. “It’s just a tiny break; right about here,” she gestured without touching his skin. “How’d that happen?”

“Fucker drove over my foot.”

“That wasn’t nice. Hope you got him back for it.”

The skull quirked an eyebrow. If the hole between his eyes and the mess of gray matter splattering the front seats were any indication, then yes, Ghost did indeed get him back. But he decided to spare her the specific details and only hummed an affirmative.

She called to someone around the corner and gave them a verbal list of things she wanted. The person quickly returned with an armful of things and piled them onto her stool. He moved to hold Ghost’s leg-

“No,” the Brit irritably snapped before speaking more calmly to the female, “… Just you.”

The other medic looked ready to argue but the woman intervened yet again, giving him a task that sounded suspiciously like busy work to the lieutenant, and sending him on his way. “Help me out a little,” she said to Ghost as she handed him some packages. “Open this please, but don’t let it fall on the floor.”

Having been put to work, Simon dutifully opened seal after seal, handing things to her as she needed them. If he was responsible for her help having been sent away then he supposed it was the least he could do. Plus she had to touch his feet, and he was sure they smelled by this point. And she had helped his sergeants, sent off that shithead that tried having him thrown out … His stomach felt uncomfortably heavy with the weight of his debts to her.

Unwrapping things was the absolute fucking least he could do.

She wrapped his foot in multiple layers before the medic came back again to set a walking boot down beside the stool. “Used one of these before?” she asked the skull, dragging the boot over.

Ghost nodded in response. He had indeed, several times.

The first being his father’s doing… Simon had been just seven years old.

The woman straightened out his pant leg and lowered his foot comfortably into the boot before closing it snuggly around him. The Brit already missed her touch. Medics were always so bloody rough with him, but her though…

Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he reached down and adjusted the boot until it was where he knew from experience he wanted it to be.

Sereza stood and held out an arm, helping to heave the huge lieutenant out of the slightly-too-small chair. Simon barely suppressed an amused chuckle when out of the corner of his eye he noticed her grabbing onto the nearby doorframe to keep from being toppled by him.

Little peanut, he laughed to himself.

“Six weeks in this thing, okay? Be extra nice to it, especially in the gym, don't get it wet, and strictly no running. Keep it elevated as much as you can, lots of ice… all the usual stuff. Come back here to have it rewrapped weekly, if not sooner. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to this, but if you decide you want something for pain just say the word,” she instructed with a sweet smile.

She remained close to the skull's side and let him hold onto her shoulder while he took a few careful steps, testing the boot. Satisfied that he could put weight on it without much pain or collapsing, his gloved hand let go of her and the Brit felt confoundingly... empty. Like he was missing something important.

What the hell was going on with him?

Maybe he was just tired. It had been a shit day after all. And a long one.

Someone called her away so Ghost walked – very slowly at first – over to the bay where Soap and Gaz were resting. He didn’t care for the sight of them connected to IVs and beeping monitors and whatever else all this stuff was, but they were both alive and would live to face another mission.

“Johnny,” his gravelly baritone whispered, having noticed Gaz fast asleep. Or heavily sedated, he wasn’t sure which.

The Scot cracked his eyes open. “She’s something, ey LT?” he drowsily grinned.

Ghost groaned quietly as he sat in the chair beside Soap’s bed. “Unusual name.”

“That’s what I s-said… Lass told me she’s from… froooomm Ar… Arrrgentina,” Soap words slurred, obviously a little medicated himself. “Preddy lil… Pretty liiiiittle bird.”

Ghost didn’t say anything more and let Soap ramble before he dozed off. All of it incoherent nonsense but Simon didn’t mind, it reinforced that he hadn’t lost Johnny. Not this time.

Blackened eyes wandered around discreetly from behind the skull plate, trying to distract himself. Tracking everyone’s movements around him and not at all trying to find a certain female. He hated the med bay. Anything to do with hospitals and doctors and such. Too much time spent around them as a child when his shitty excuse of a sperm donor went overboard. A flash of the now familiar caramel waves caught his eye and diverted his mind from unpleasant memories.

This med bay though… maybe this one wasn’t so bad.

Leaning back in the chair and stretching out his legs, the physical and mental exhaustion of a mission gone sideways caught up with him and the skull began to drift off.

The hours ticked by.

They took Gaz off somewhere. Multiple medics stopped by to check vitals and switch out IVs and units of blood for Soap while the sergeant continued to lightly snore. Each of them roused the lieutenant a bit just by their presence alone, though he paid them no mind and didn’t let on that he was awake. If they weren’t the woman then he really couldn’t be bothered. Hours continued to pass, Soap left, came back, then left again, and Simon’s back ached from this fucking metal chair.

A warm glow shining on his eyelids interrupted his nap. Annoyed, he squinted at the doors to the runway where they'd landed, eyebrows furrowing in thought. It had been late in the day when they got here, why was it still light out?

Was it just him or was this the longest day ever?

Fuck it. Whatever.

Too tired to care at this point. And fuck this uncomfortable chair too.

Cracking his neck, Simon nodded off once again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A touch on his forearm caused Ghost’s hand to clamp down hard on someone.

Murderous blackened eyes met with bright amber ones. He quickly let go of her hand. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling horrendously guilty when he saw the red print of his hand marring her olive skin. (“YOU LITTLE FUCKER, ALWAYS FUCKING SHIT UP!”) The Brit blinked hard behind the skull plate, trying to force his father’s voice out of his head.

“No worries Lieutenant,” she smiled sweetly with a reassuring squeeze on his arm. “We’re moving your guys to a room, do you wanna go along? See everyone? We can find you an actual bed to sleep in after. Something a little better than this shitty chair.”

The Brit staggered along, following Sereza out of the triage area and into the winding system of corridors that formed the guts of all hospitals.

“MacTavish should be done soon,” she informed. “Ah. Speaking of-”

A gurney banged open a set of double doors a few feet ahead of them, one of the attendants handing papers off to her as the bed moved on ahead. A few silent moments and an insane number of turns later, Soap’s gurney finally veered through a final set of doors. The words Intensive Care above them made Simon’s chest feel tight.

“We were able to get them in the same room,” the woman’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Garrick left post-op about twenty minutes ago so he should be set up already.”

The woman… what was her name?

It was unusual... fuck, he couldn’t remember exactly. And he didn’t want to insult her by getting it wrong. He’d have to wait and hope he’d be able to pick it up somewhere.

Simon hung back in the hall, out of the way, as people swarmed in and out of the room. Finally everything settled and the Brit felt that he could enter without getting in the way. Deep down he wasn’t sure he was ready to and his mind was imagining the state his team might be in, but as a lieutenant he was responsible for them and that was not a duty Ghost took lightly.

After a silent deep breath, he walked into the dim room. Soap was settled in across the room from a quietly sleeping Garrick and aside from the expected bandages, tubes, and monitors, Simon was immensely relieved to find nothing horribly worrying. Next to Soap, the little one stood off to the side, signing papers, reading over other papers, and conversing with the last few staff members before they too left, skittering almost fearfully past the skull-masked Brit.

“How is he?” Ghost quietly asked, looking down at Johnny.

“He’s really good actually. And lucky. His scan shows no serious damage that time won’t fix. He has a drain right now because we don’t want any swelling making things worse and giving us a new set of problems, but that can come out in about a few days. That’s the only thing keeping him in ICU; just needs to be watched closely.”

How the hell was she so soothing to listen to? Ghost couldn’t understand it.

The way she talked made him feel like there was nothing to worry about.

“Shall we go find you a bed? They’re gonna sleep the rest of the day and you look ready to drop.”

The pair walked side by side down the hall, turning more corners than the Brit cared to count, while she filled him in on more details. He was trying to keep up with where they were going and what she was saying, but he was so fucking tired.

“Then for Garrick, we operated on him last night. Removed two fragments, patched a few holes. Very smooth, no complications, but he does have a chest tube in for right now. I expect he’ll be up and about in four, maybe five days - as long as he doesn't spring a new leak, which I don't expect that he will. He’s in ICU only so MacTavish has a friend to keep him company. Didn’t want him waking up in a strange place without someone he knows there.”

“Last night?”

Hazel eyes looked up at him quizzically. “Yeahhhh… When you guys got here.”

She spoke slowly and with concern, like she was beginning to suspect he'd busted his head as well as his foot. “It’s-” The skull looked toward the bright windows up ahead. Wait a damn minute…

“Ghost, do you know where you are?”

Actually no. Not exactly. It wasn’t a concern at the time.

His concern was not losing anyone on his team. They were all he had.

He grumpily shook his head. “Watcher had to divert us here quickly because of injuries. No time for details.”

“Ah. Well since no one took the time to tell you, you’re in the Arctic,” she explained when the Brit continued looking perplexed.

Things began to make a little more sense. “Is this,” fuck, what was it called, “when the sun doesn’t go down?”

A mellifluous little laugh almost made his cold heart melt. That was aggravating since it left him feeling like he wasn’t in full control.

“Yeah, midnight sun. It’s just a little after 0300 right now. Welcome to Camp Westforge, Lieutenant,” she gestured at a pair of large windows that offered the Brit a view of the expansive snow-covered wilderness beyond the base’s high walls. Despite it being around three in the morning, the bright sun hung low above the frozen horizon. “Throws you off, doesn’t it? That explains why you were confused. I was beginning to worry I missed a head injury.”

The Brit muttered something under his breath about being perfectly fine.

“Oh quit fussing,” she lightly teased.

Simon was taken aback. No one had ever dared speak to him like that or tease him, aside from Johnny.

He didn't fuss though. Ever.

The broody Brit pinned a half-hearted scowl on the small female walking by his shoulder but she was completely unbothered, goddammit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Price arrived two days later.

The news awaiting him was not what he'd wanted to hear.

Injuries would keep the 141 out of action for the short term. Johnny was initially crushed by the damage done to his mohawk but his sunny disposition had kicked in and he was back to seeing the bright side of things again - at least he was alive and had narrowly avoided a career-ending, life-altering injury. If that cost him his mohawk then so be it. Hair would grow back.

Garrick had practically jumped out of bed the day after his chest tube was removed and declared himself ready for action again. The base was swarming with planes and helos lately and each time a new one came in Gaz or Johnny would say something about their ride being here. Simon had to talk sense into them, insisting that Johnny wouldn’t be useful in the field with staples still in his head, which Soap disagreed with. Afterward, Johnny sulked in his bed, continuing his arguments in Gaelic, Simon was sure.

Gaz on the other hand spent most of his time rehabbing his shoulder once he received the all-clear. Simon had spent every moment he could with the sergeants once they were awake, his protective instincts kicking in. Plus being stuck in a hospital room was fucking boring.

Price was pleased to see the nursing staff being attentive and proactive to their every need, though he knew they were perturbed by being sidelined as well as how the last mission went down. Makarov was still out there, planning God knows what, in addition to everyone else on their watch list. His phone buzzed. Texts from the boys acknowledging the news - Laswell had informed him Westforge was to be their temporary base of operations, reasoning that the team needed to be close by. 'Little home away from home,' she'd called it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Simon hadn't seen the woman since the day after they arrived.

That was frustrating, which made no sense to him. What did he care if she was busy or whatever? Because he didn't. Or, shouldn't. He wasn’t responsible for her. But without fail, every fucking time he and this stupid fucking boot limped into a room the skull found himself looking around for a head of long dark honey-colored curls and found none. It was putting him in a very sour mood.

Her effect on his thoughts and mood also annoyed him - not with her, with himself. That little one made him feel… weird. A warm feeling would settle in his chest and stomach.

But what in the bloody hell? And fucking why?

It was always with him, night and day, fluttering around in his chest. At least it was a pleasant feeling for a goddamn change.

The skull asked himself yet again at what fucking point exactly had his professionalism gone out the window? Distractions were dangerous and he was here to do a job: find target, eliminate target, maybe get some intel in the process.

That’s all.

Simple.

Right?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Simon hated having a hurt foot.

It was maddening how much it slowed him down. Plus watching how much others had to slow down to match his pace bothered him immensely. He never liked when he felt he was inconveniencing others. Even in a small way like this.

He had his father to thank for that too, he guessed.

But more importantly… where the bloody hell did the woman disappear to?!

It had been fucking days!

Maybe she was gone.

Sent back to wherever she lived. Strangely, that hurt to think about.

Noises behind him grated severely on his fragile nerves. The entire damn room started asking questions all at the same fucking time. How you holding up? Did you get enough sleep? When’d you eat last? And so forth. The Brit glared angrily at the tea in his hand. Fucking hell. Busybodies.

A soft feminine laugh followed their rapid line of questioning. “Fine, not really, and I don’t remember.”

Frayed nerves relaxed. In all of Westforge, there was only one female and a sensation he’d never experienced, definitely not around others, washed over him once he heard her voice. The lieutenant was both inexplicably relieved and highly perplexed. He was happy because the little one was there again, but still didn’t understand why this seemed to only ever happen around her.

Also others talking to her so familiarly and affectionately was getting under his skin.

“That rush kept you fucking busy! Goddamn!” some random corporal chimed in. Simon pulled his hood farther forward, hiding how he glowered at the back of the corporal's head.

She quietly laughed as she stirred creamer into her coffee. “No shit. I sewed enough guys together to make a rug.”

Could he order these people to quit talking to her? Because they were still doing it and it bothered him. Just say hello and get the fuck out.

Simon watched, thoroughly irked, as soldier after soldier after soldier passed by the little one and greeted her. Why couldn’t they just tell her good morning? He’d have felt fine about that. Kind of.

But no, every goddamn one of them had to hug her, pat her on the head, and talk to her all nice-like. What in the fresh fucking hell? Why the affection? Why did everyone have to touch her?

… Why couldn’t he?

Ghost immediately flushed hard under his balaclava upon realizing why he hated everything about this so much.

He wanted that to be him.

To stand close to her again. To be on the receiving end of that bright smile.

Gloved fingers tugged at his jumper as he retreated even further into the hood and adjusted the balaclava under his eyes to make sure it covered the top of his cheeks. Thoughts like this had no business being in his head during deployments.

A tall black-haired guy in his gym clothes casually walked in and began to make his own coffee beside her. Then they smiled at one another as he embraced her in a side hug, her head resting against his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

And a cold, crushing weight slammed into the Brit’s chest. Clearing a burning lump from his throat, the lieutenant stood and left the room.

He couldn’t take watching anymore.

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master-sass-blast · 1 year ago

Text

Let's Call it a Draw Between Us -Chapter One: Defeat.

Author's Note (uploading multiple works tonight, so I'm slapping this on all the fics I'm posting):

Uh... hi.

It's been a very long time. Longer than I'd hoped for, but suffice to say, this year hasn't gone according to plan.

In sum, I had a mental breakdown in Spring, got diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in July, my husband totaled his car in September, I was sick for the whole month of October, my husband found a new (used) car... and then hit a deer at the end of November, and the insurance company ruled that it was totaled because the repair costs would be worth more than the value of the car.

Yeah.

There's been other shit, too, but part of what I've learned with the new diagnosis is that my body does not regulate or cope with stress well -which I sort of already knew, but it's to a vaster extent than I'd known. Essentially, this past year has just taken me out at the knees, and it will probably take my body a while to regulate and function well again.

I still want to write and post fics, but I now have a lot of anxiety around not being able to write and post fics (along with other things that my befuckened body interferes with), which is just... a lot. And frustrating.

I'm not throwing in the towel. But I also can't promise any sort of posting schedule moving forward. Right now, my body and brain are just too unpredictable, and I have to make sure I'm taking care of my basic needs (like eat and hygiene and sleeping, it's literally that difficult to deal with) so that I'm physically okay.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope to see you more regularly in the coming New Year, but if not, know that I'm okay and still kicking, but that my body's just kicking back for the time being.

Much love and best of wishes to you all for the New Year!

Summary: Sevika pines. She drinks. Then she competes in some arm wrestling and makes some very sapphic eye contact.

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

Or maybe she wins all three times. It depends on your point of view.

(Basically just a very self-indulgent fic that spawned from an idea about Sevika and a big, buff Reader that I'll probably never get around to writing in full, so I wrote this as a way of honoring that idea.)

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

Speaking of… Sevika leans against the bar and snaps her fingers at Thieram. “Whisky, neat. Half a glass.” She narrows her eyes when he raises his eyebrows at her, then scoffs and goes back to staring across the room once he jumps to. Idiot.

She hadn’t expected much out of you after she first met you. Properly met you, that is. Technically, her first introduction to you had been in an underground fighting ring stocked by Stillwater’s hardier, more opportunistic patrons. You’d made quick work of the other prisoners, but Silco had wanted a proper evaluation before deciding whether or not to scoop you up, so in she’d gone. She’d socked you in the jaw, you’d suplexed her through a shitty wooden table. Good times.

She hasn’t had any complaints about you. You’re quiet, compliant. You don’t get drunk on the job, and you don’t start fights with the rest of the crew.

But that seems to be about it. You don’t really hang out with anyone else. You’ll talk to her every now and then, but otherwise you keep to yourself. You don’t play cards with the others, shoot pool, or share drinks. No swapping of stories, or exchanging inside jokes. From what she can tell, you keep to yourself like a hermit in an invisible cave.

Like a shadow, she reflects as you hang back in your usual spot (towards the back of the bar, tucked into darkness, where no one bothers you). If you’re not watching it, you forget it’s there.

She’d thought that was it. She’s seen plenty of people leave Stillwater and fall into violence, or inebriation, or withdrawn sullenness. She figured you were a tragic statistic –yet another to add to Zaun’s tally.

And then…

Her upper lips curls when Jinx comes bounding down the stairs. She tracks the blue-haired sprite across the bar, over to where you’re sitting, then scoffs when you greet Jinx with a small smile before glaring down at her glass.

It’s like watching a flower unfurl after weeks of frost. You smile and open up towards the sun of Jinx’s exuberance like you’ve been doing it your whole life, like there’s nothing more natural to you than beaming at Silco’s brat. And, sure, Jinx is a kid and she’s kind of cute, for a demented gremlin. But she’s still Jinx.

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

You’d called it kismet when she’d asked why you tolerate Silco’s batty brat. You’d lost your baby sister when you’d gone into prison, Jinx had lost Vi after the factory explosion, and then, years later, the universe had brought you two together and balanced everything back out, or fucking whatever.

She supposes it’s a decent arrangement. Jinx isn’t nearly as vicious and off kilter with you around, and you get all soft, and mushy, and happy, and pretty–

Sevika motions to Thieram to top her glass up again. Fuck me.

You’re protective of Jinx, too. Not that the brat can’t handle herself (Sevika has her new arm to prove that). But, she can still remember the night Finn’s gang had crowded into the Last Drop. They’d been obnoxious, and overbearing, and more than a little sloshed. Jacen, one of Finn’s “good buddies,” had slapped Jinx across the ass as a joke.

He’d done it in front of Silco. He was a dead man regardless.

Before anyone –even Jinx–could react, though, you’d lurched out of your chair, grabbed the sledgehammer you keep with you in lieu of a knife or a gun, and taken two long strides across the bar. “Jacen!”

Sevika’s core clenches at the memory. She lets out a harsh breath, then gulps down half her drink.

The crimson, glittering spray of blood through the air had been beautiful. Like gems cascading through the air. Jacen’s face had caved in on one side from where you drove the head of the hammer all but through it. He’d dropped to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

She’d gotten herself off to the thought of it that very night. The fury in your eyes, the decisive, powerful movements of your body, the splatter of blood. She’d climaxed harder than she had in a long time.

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

She takes it without coughing or gasping. She’s been an expert for decades. Her jaw works as she finishes swallowing, and then she turns her head so she can watch you again.

You’re listening and nodding while Jinx rambles. There’s a certain attentiveness to your expression. Maybe it’s the angle of your eyebrows, or the soft, lax look of your jaw, or the brightness in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s a total abandonment from both the harsh, dominating fury she’s seen from you, and the skittish, withdrawn apathy.

Something soft and needy aches beneath her ribs as she watches you with Jinx. Sevika grits her teeth and exhales with practiced languor. I’ve gone fucking soft.

Sevika doesn’t consider herself possessive. She visits the brothel far too regularly, and has more than a handful of casual “situationships” with different ladies around Zaun to be possessive. She’s not monogamous, at least. She doesn’t think of other people as property. The children of Zaun don’t have the luxury of such affluent detachment.

But she wants you. It’s like this thing that sits beneath her ribs and crawls around inside her. It’s restless, and writhing, and it gnaws on her bones like a feral dog in the dark corner of an alley. It keeps her up at night with racing thoughts, vivid hopes, and half-formed “what ifs.”

It also keeps her up at night because, more often than not, she winds up masturbating to the thought of you –like some starstruck, gods-damned teenager.

She’s not used to wanting –not for companionship, at least. She wants her freedom, wants her equality, wants Zaun to stand strong against those fucking Piltie pigs… but that’s about Zaun. There’s a certain degree of detachment there. It’s not about Sevika personally, the woman who is renowned at the Gardens, beats everyone’s ass in cards, and can drink any citizen of Zaun under the table. The woman who got blown up and survived, lost an arm and came back stronger, and practically rules the Undercity with a steel spine and a –literal–iron fist.

She doesn’t want for company. Any attention she wants, she can easily get. She doesn’t stay up half the night yearning for anyone, much less a… lover? Companion? Affection?

Sevika knocks back the rest of her drink, but the burning in her throat pales in comparison to the ache in her chest. Janna, kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery.

She wants you. She wants to get her hands on you, get you underneath her (or on top of her, she’s not picky), and crack you open. She wants to drink you down, watch all that rage and goodness and steeliness and softness pour out. She wants to find its source and let it all wash over her. She wants it –needs it–for herself.

She wants it to be hers, even in part. She wants to bask in everything you keep held back by your silent, stoic mask.

There’s a headache forming behind her left eye. Probably from clenching her teeth; ever since the scars on her face crystalized, the muscles on the left side of her jaw have been more sensitive to strain.

She’s not used to this –this, this insipid, endless pining. It’s been going on for months now, and she’s just about ready to put a fork in her eye just to make it fucking end.

She barks at Thieram to get her another glass. Drink until you feel nothing. Zaun’s oldest remedy. She leans heavily against the bartop, then groans beneath her breath. Might as well buy the whole bottle. Against good sense, she resumes watching you. Warmth spreads through her chest when you grin at Jinx, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Y’know, somehow, I don’t think she’s going to figure out you like her just from you staring at her like a creep through a window.”

Sevika tenses, then glares at Ran as they sit down on the barstool next to hers. She picks up her refilled glass with her left hand and lifts it to her lips. “Fuck off. Nobody asked you.”

Ran stays where they are –a credit to their courage, at least. They smirk, then glance across the bar, to where you’re sitting, before returning their knowing, smug gaze to Sevika. “It’d be easier if you talked to her.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m just trying to save you the eyestrain.” They grin, thin and sharp, when Sevika flips them off, then lean against the wooden countertop. “Seriously, though. Why not ask her out?”

Sevika scowls and focuses on her whiskey glass, which is suddenly very interesting. “S’not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Sevika nearly kicks them off the stool and onto the floor (just for starters), but when she catches a look at Ran’s face and realizes they’re not teasing, she sighs and scrubs her face with her right hand. “I… I don’t know what she’d say.”

“Since when is that a problem for you?” Ran asks, face twisting with equal parts mirth and disbelief. When Sevika rolls her eyes, they shove her shoulder lightly. “It’s not like you ever have to work for it.” They pause, then smirk devilishly. “Maybe it’s weakened your game. Is that it?”

Sevika glares at them, then kicks Ran in the shin when they start snickering. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep. And for your information, you giggling bastard, that’s not the problem.” When Ran swallows their smile and motions for her to continue (while rubbing at their shin), she huffs. “I –I don’t know if she likes women.”

Ran’s visible eyebrow arches. “You’ve seen her.”

“...Duh.”

“She likes women.” When Sevika grimaces, Ran narrows their eyes. “You think otherwise?”

“I don’t think she likes anybody,” Sevika admits; doing so is somehow both a relief and condemning all in one. “You’ve seen her around people. She’s not exactly interested.��

“Not everyone likes a girl in their lap the way you do.”

“That’s not the point,” Sevika snarls under her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Then what is?”

It’s not easy to articulate. Sure, it’s an unspoken, universally acknowledged truth in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean anyone ever says it.

People go into Stillwater, and they come out –if they come out at all–different. Broken. You spent most of your life in that shithole –spent most of your teenage years there–at the anti-mercy of the wardens and other prisoners. It only stands to reason that any part of you inclined towards a relationship –or sex, or human contact–got snuffed out by the need to survive.

She feels bad for you, sometimes. Only when it’s too quiet, and she doesn’t have anything to do, and she’s not drunk and-or high enough to keep her thoughts from wandering to the dark, traitorously soft corners of her mind. She can almost see the child you started as –fiery, but so soft and good and kind–and it all got stomped out by the assholes ruling above them.

Sevika forces herself to loosen her death grip on the glass. Breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she hates picking shards out of the grooves of her mechanical fingers. “You haven’t seen her around Silver. She touched her shoulder–” she nods at you subtly “–without warning. I thought she was gonna break Silver’s fingers.”

“That’s Silver,” Ran says with a derisive curl of their upper lip. “She wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘boundaries’ if it rammed itself up her ass.”

They’re not wrong; the young woman’s brazen attitude is one of the things Sevika likes about Silver –albeit in small doses.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone,” Sevika murmurs, pathetic by her own standards. She’s worn down enough, though, to speak plainly. “She doesn’t go to any of the brothels, or take anyone home –and, yes, I’ve asked. She hates being touched, or being near anyone.” She presses her lips together to keep a pitiful smile back –she’d never forgive herself–then downs more whiskey. The burn of the liquor grounds her, brings her back to normalcy. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Ran nods minutely, mulling the evidence over. They watch you for a minute, hawkish in their scrutiny. “She sits with Jinx.”

“Jinx,” Sevika grits out (both because it’s Jinx, and because of the implication of Ran’s observation), “is a kid.”

“She is,” they agree, unfazed. “But, clearly, she’s not entirely opposed to all human contact.”

Like I don’t fucking know that. Sevika clenches her teeth together to keep from snapping. She’s observed the same damn thing, and it’s what keeps that whining, consuming, itching ember of hope burning in her chest.

Ran watches Sevika for a moment, then continues when she doesn’t say anything. “She sits with you.”

“That’s different,” Sevika says on reflex.

“I don’t think it is,” they press. “She never sits with anyone else. It’s either on her own, with Jinx, if she’s here, or with you.”

“I–”

“It’s not like she’s in it for playing cards,” Ran continues, staring Sevika down when she tries to argue. “And she doesn’t drink much, either.” They prop one elbow against the bartop. “Frankly, if you’re not here, then she isn’t. She only bothers hanging around if you’re here.”

“That’s–”

“She talks to you a lot, too,” Ran drawls, tone both teasing and reflective. “The rest of us are lucky to get a word or two from her, but she’ll talk the whole night with you.”

“I’m–”

“She lets you touch her, too. I’ve even seen her touch your shoulder in return.”

“If you interrupt me again–”

“Quit moping,” Ran says, voice flat and final. “Ask her out, or get over it.”

There’s a lot she could say to that. First of all, no one accuses her of moping. But she tucks it away for later; she doesn’t want to start kicking Ran’s ass in front of everyone, because that means the trigger point for said ass kicking will inevitably become common knowledge. Her feelings are nobody’s business but hers. Second of all, no one but Silco tells her what to do, and that’s only for work. She is the only damn master of her personal life, thank you very fucking much. Third, she knows for a fact that Ran spent nearly two years pining for one of Silco’s assassins, so they’ve got zero room to talk shit.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink, then motions for a third refill. “She’s not interested.”

Ran stares at her for a moment. Then, they scoff and shake their head. “You’re an idiot.”

Sevika glares harshly at them–

The door to Silco’s office creaks open, then thumps shut, followed by the man himself quietly descending the staircase to the bar floor. “Jinx.” He finishes buttoning his trench coat shut. “Pack up your things. We’re going home.”

“What?” Jinx’s face screws into the picture of teenage consternation. The baby fat on her cheeks makes her look younger still. “But–”

“It’s alright.” You quickly and neatly arrange her blueprints and drawings into a single stack, then hand them to the blue-haired youngster. “We can talk later, okay?”

Envy curls in Sevika’s gut when Jinx hugs you and you reciprocate with one arm. She turns away and hides her scowl behind her glass. Fucking brat.

Silco addresses the rest of his crew, “I trust that you’re all competent enough to avoid burning the place to the ground?” He arches his good eyebrow, then smirks when a mix of serious answers and half-drunk jokes rise up from the crowd. “Good enough.” He turns to face Sevika and tosses her a key. “You decide when the bar closes.”

She catches the key with her right hand, then flips Petrichor off with her left when they start grumbling under their breath about Sevika being in charge. She raises her glass to Silco in lieu of a spoken fair well, then knocks the rest of it back when he leaves out the rear with Jinx in tow. “Fucking finally. Theo! Put something good on for a change.”

“Are you having another?”

Sevika looks down as Silver –one of Silco’s personal spies–materializes at her side. She eyes the younger woman –her tight dress, high ponytail, and alluring make up–then looks away. Not with you. “Probably not. Best to take it easy.”

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

Sevika subtly kicks their stool, then looks down when Silver situates herself between her legs.

“You sure?” Silver pouts –which does stir something in Sevika, given Silver’s plush lips and deep-colored lipstick, but it’s not the something that she wants tonight. Silver bats her eyelashes a little, then smiles coyly. “Could be fun.”

Sevika bites back a scowl; she doesn’t want to put Silver off permanently –not yet, anyway. She wracks her brain for some sort of believable excuse that even Silver would accept–

As fortune would have it, one falls into her lap.

“–pretty sure I hit three-fifty yesterday–”

A collective chorus of groans alerts Sevika to the newest problem –chiefly, that Arik is bragging about his “gym gains.” Again.

Nevermind that she could break him over her knee like a fucking twig.

“It’s taken a lot of dedication and hard work.” Arik stretches and flexes, preening while everyone else rolls their eyes. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m probably the strongest member in the crew.”

Sevika arches one eyebrow in judgment; it’s ludicrous, considering that he’s ignoring her, the bouncers, Leon and Boris, and Lock, Silco’s mountainous, tattooed henchman that works security at the Shimmer plants. Why do we even put up with you?

Theo barks out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance, dickwad. No way in hell you’re the strongest person here. Pretty sure Miss Silver could knock you on your ass.”

“I’d take that bet,” Silver chimes in, twirling a lock of her straight, powder purple hair around her finger.

Arik pouts, looking like a spoiled teenager. “Oh, yeah? Who’s strongest, then? You?”

“No.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t have delusions of grandeur like you. Nah, it’s probably…” He looks around the bar, eyeing the bouncers, then Sevika, before twisting in his seat so he can see the back of the bar. “Actually, it’s probably Mouse, here.”

It takes you a moment to register the nickname foisted upon you by the rest of the crew. You lift your head, blink a few times, then straighten up. “What?”

“Cuntface here–” Theo jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Arik, who sputters and wheezes like a dying engine “–thinks he’s the strongest person in the crew. I wagered that title would probably go to you.”

“Oh.” You look around at everyone, then nod. “Okay.”

Arik huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s –there’s no way to prove that! Size isn’t everything!”

Sevika bites back a smirk as every single woman in the bar glances at each other and rolls their eyes.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Theo sneers at Arik. “Look at her, and look at you. It’s not going to be much of a competition.”

“You can’t prove that!” Arik insists, expression petulant.

Theo swivels in his seat to face you again. “Can you knock him out to shut him the fuck up?”

“No one’s doing that,” Sevika pipes up when everyone starts chattering and laughing excitedly. When people start grousing, she levels the room with a hard, final glare. “We’re not paying to get blood out of the floorboards. Again. If you all want to be idiots and knock the shit out of each other, you do it on your own time and floors, where I don’t have to clean up after your fucking mess.”

There’s a lull, and for a moment it seems like that’ll be it–

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

“Hey,” Ran drawls, eyes lighting up. “That could work.”

“Anything to get this moron to shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles.

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

When she realizes everyone is looking for her –presumably for permission, not that anyone’s ever bothered asking before–Sevika waves one hand dismissively. “Knock yourselves out.”

You watch as a table is cleared and Theo all but shoves Arik into a chair. When everyone looks expectantly at you, you shoot a wide-eyed, somewhat panicked glance her way.

Sevika offers you a half smile, then shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your choice.’

You shrug back, then sigh before standing. You stride over to the awaiting table and sit opposite a very grumpy, red-faced Arik.

Sevika shifts on her stool so she has a better view. Heat unfurls in her core as you prop one elbow against the table. She watches the way the thick muscles in your arm and forearm ripple with each movement. Damn.

Arik shifts in his seat. His eyelid twitches as he eyes your arm and hand. “I– I don’t know–”

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

Arik swallows hard, then props his elbow on the table and takes hold of your hand.

“On go,” Ran declares –they’ve left the bar and now stand beside the table. “Three… two… one… go!”

It’s not even a competition. If anything, it’s almost pathetic.

Arik tenses his arm –then squeaks when you push his hand down so fast he nearly falls out of his chair. The back of his hand hits the wooden surface of the table with a dull thonk. He lets out an angry snarl, yanks his hand away, then lurches to his feet and storms off with such force that his chair topples to the floor.

Everyone else cheers and claps as the front door of The Last Drop slams shut behind Arik.

“Fucking finally,” Theo mutters before running one hand through his curly hair. He looks at you and smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for shutting him up. Want a drink?”

You lean back and away. “I –I’m good, thanks.”

“That wasn’t even a challenge, though!” Silver pipes up, pouting.

“We already knew it wouldn’t be,” Theo fires back drily.

“But,” Ran interjects with a wry edge to their voice, “if we’re really trying to figure out who’s strongest…”

Sevika presses her lips into a thin line when they turn and look directly at her. Don’t you fucking dare.

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

You look at her, then lean back in your seat and grin. “Oh, yeah. Easy.”

Sevika feels her brows rise up, and she grins back despite being annoyed with Ran literal seconds ago. “Really? That’s the stance you want to take?”

“I mean…” You shrug and smirk. “It’s the truth.” You raise one eyebrow as buzzed laughter and inebriated runs through the gang. “What, you're too scared to test it?”

Them’s fighting words. Sevika cocks her head to the side, smirks right back, then shoves off her barstool and stalks over to the table.

Your eyes light up as she sits down across from you. You lean forward, prop one elbow on the tabletop, and grin. “It’s nothing personal, Sev.”

The crooked angle of your grin makes her heart flutter in a delightful, squirmy manner. She swallows hard, forces down the childish feelings of elation, and props one elbow on the table without dropping your gaze. She smirks, and revels in the way your eyes dance in the bar lighting. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” she fires back, making sure her voice comes out lower and huskier.

Your grin broadens. You clasp her hand and squeeze tight while Theo counts down…

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

It’s like shoving against a wall. Granted, Sevika’s shoved, kicked, and punched a number of walls in her day. She’s left her mark –even broken a few–on nearly all of them. She likes to think that she’s a reasonably strong, generally indestructible motherfucker.

You watch her for a few moments, expression placid –save for the smug, wicked, coy, sexy smirk on your lips. You let her try for a little longer, then inhale sharply and blink rapidly. “Wait, did we start already?”

“Fuck you,” Sevika grits out without any real malice.

You grin, showing a brilliant, alluring flash of teeth –and then you push.

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

To her credit, she feels your own arm waver slightly; to your credit, you brace your muscles, and it’s like pushing against a wall again.

She grits her teeth and tries to up the ante again. She curses when it doesn’t work, then grunts when you push her arm down another fraction of an inch.

“You okay, baby?” You grin when everyone else laughs (it’s a mix of delight and shock). “It’s okay if you need to tap.”

She grins back. Right now, she doesn’t care if she loses. Frankly, if you keep flirting with her like this, she’s the real winner in this scenario. “Keep it up, baby. We’ll see who taps.”

It’s a lost cause. You take your sweet time, push her hand down smooth and slow, and talk a lot of smack all the while.

She’s got less than an inch between the table top and the back of her right hand, now. You’re not even actively pushing, more just keeping her pinned at that point. She grunts, then laughs when your arm doesn’t budge. “Come on, you cunt. Just fucking finish it!”

You laugh in return and wink. “You’re getting tired in your old age, Sev.”

She grins. “Say that again and we’ll take this out back, bitch.”

You wink –then shove the back of her hand down against the table.

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

Sevika can’t find it in herself to give a shit. Yeah, she lost, people are teasing her for it, whatever. She’ll kick their asses later, if she feels like it. Right now, you’re laughing, and smiling at her, and she technically got to hold your hand. That’s all she really cares about.

“What about the other one?”

Sevika blinks a few times, then frowns, confused. She looks up at Theo. “Huh?”

“Her other arm.” He’s talking to you, but he turns and gestures to her mech arm. “What about that one?”

“Uh…” Trepidation flashes across your face as you eye her prosthetic. You cringe and lean back in your chair. “I doubt it.”

It’s fair; her mech arm is reinforced, has motors that work the joints the way her muscles used to, and it’s heavy as shit. She’s crushed bones with her mechanical hand, just by clenching her hand into a fist.

But, still. In for a penny, stupid ways of flirting –all that shit.

She props her metal elbow on the table, resulting in a muted thud.

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

She grins in a way that she hopes is taunting and enticing. She holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers. “You scared, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flash. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip. You brace your forearms against the table as you eye her metal hand. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, then say, “Just don’t crush my hand.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. She’s not out for revenge.

Your shoulders relax. You cock your head from side to side, stretching your neck, then put your left elbow on the table and clasp her mechanical hand. “Bring it on. Sweetheart.”

It’s a more even match; she’d certainly hope so, given the fucking mechanical arm.

There’s a vein popping out on the side of your neck. Your face is pinched, expression one of intense focus and strain. The muscles in your arm and forearm stand out in full, glorious relief, defined and rippling as you fight against the force of her arm.

Her arm isn’t shaking this time, at least; such are the merits of steel reinforcement bars. But she’s not moving your hand, either. Sevika growls. The motors in her arm whir as she pushes harder.

You grunt and shove back. You bare your teeth. Your gaze is locked on where your two hands are joined. Your hands trembles from the sheer force of your exertion–

And then her hand lowers an inch.

Everyone else gasps. Exclamations and expletives roll through the bar.

“Fifty gold pieces says Mouse does it,” Theo says.

“Bullshit,” Ran fires back. “She’ll get tired, first.”

Kharim pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil. “That’s fifty on Mouse, so far. Do I hear one hundred?”

“I’ll put twenty on Sev,” Silver says with a sweet smile.

“Really?” Sevika grunts as she pushes harder against your hand. “Only twenty?”

You let out a breathless, strained laugh –then push her hand down further.

“Who’s got another fifty on Mouse?” Kharim asks.

Too late, she realizes her prosthetic arm is actually working against her, in this situation. She has to work against the weight of the mech arm –which you can use to your advantage, naturally. The built in mechanical safeties are hosing her, too. Her arm is designed such that, at certain angles or certain levels of exertion, the gears and motors will give to whatever she’s working against. It prevents damage to the internal mechanisms and bending the internal support structures. It’s invaluable for the longevity of her prosthetic, but it also means she can’t mindlessly strain against your hand like she could with her right arm. Her only hope is that her left arm can outmatch yours in raw strength.

Normally, she’d go all in on that bet. Normally –unless her opponent was doped to the gills on Shimmer–there wouldn’t even be enough force in the picture for the failsafes to override the locking mechanisms.

You growl, teeth bared in a glorious snarl, and shove her metal hand lower.

She can’t even find it in herself to be mad. One, she’s not some mealy-mouthed bitch who needs to be the strongest person in the room at all times; she, unlike some people (Arik), is confident in herself and her abilities. Two, it’s frankly impressive. It’s an unrepentant display of raw strength, and she’s not above respecting it. Three…

It’s hot.

She’s torn between focusing on resisting you and watching the muscles in your arm flex. Her mild buzz isn’t helping, either. In hindsight, should’ve stopped with the second glass. It’s taking far too much focus not to just gawk, to grin and simper like an idiot, and she likes to think she still has her pride –which is also why she’s not just giving up. After all, she has her pride. Sevika growls when you force her hand lower, then doubles down and pushes back. Maybe not for much longer, with how this is going. Fuck.

You grit your teeth. There’s sweat glistening along your hairline (which might be her only other saving grace, since her mech arm can’t get tired). You snarl, then grip her hand tighter.

Sevika swears when her arm suddenly jerks downward. She nearly topples out of her chair, saved only by managing to plant her feet beneath the table. She catches herself, blinks–

It’s over.

You shove her metal knuckles against the table with a thud –hard enough that the wood dents inward where her steel knuckle guard hits the surface.

The crowd goes nuts, loses their minds, whatever. If she’s being honest, she’s really not paying attention to it. A distant fragment of her brain registers the squaring of bets, exchanging of coin, but–

You’re still holding her hand.

A larger, deeply buried part of her is furious that she doesn’t have better sensory input on her left hand. She can detect pressure and temperature, rudimentary shit, but she can’t feel the calluses on your palm, or the precise texture of your skin. She can’t really gauge how thick your hand is in hers.

You’re still panting, somewhat dazed as you stare down at your joined hands. Slowly, your eyes trace up the line of her mech arm, up to her face, where you take in her stunned expression. You swallow, quick, then grin.

You’re breathing hard. Your skin glistens faintly with warmth. Your hair looks tousled, slightly sweat trapped. And your grin practically glows.

It’s the closest she’s ever been to seeing what you look like after sex. Sevika can feel her mind filing every single detail of how you look away for future masturbatory reference. She grins back, slow and a bit dazzled. “Shit.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. You drop her gaze for a moment, but when you look back up your eyes shine unabated joy.

You’re not looking away. You’re not pulling away. You’re not letting go of her hand.

Do it, a voice that sounds irritatingly like Ran’s whispers in her mind. Do it, you fucking coward. Sevika licks her lips, then leans forward, hoping that she comes across as conspiratorial and collected. “I–”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

The sudden intrusion feels more like an assault. Fake, sweet perfume cloys at her nose. There’s arms around her neck, and unwanted weight in her lap.

Silver’s face looms into view. She peers down through her lashes, lips posed in a perfect, alluring pout. “It’s not–”

Whatever else Silver says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s looking over the smaller woman’s shoulder, instead.

You pull your hand back across the table. Your smile slips away, and your shoulders bunch up ever so slightly. Back to the usual mask of the careful, quiet mouse.

Godsdammit. Sevika shoves Silver out of her lap and stands with a snarl. “Fuck off.” She stomps away and up the stairs, to where Silco’s office and a few private rooms are. “Everyone, out! Tonight’s done!” She ignores the groans and jeers following her, storms into Silco’s office, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles in its setting.

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

Sevika collapses onto the quilted velvet couch tucked into the corner of the office. She drops her head into her hands and scrubs at her face. Janna’s left fucking tit, that was a disaster. She sits up, only to slump against the couch like a dejected teenager. This is never going to work out.

If she was anyone else, she might cry –out of sheer frustration, if nothing else. Since she’s not anyone else, she helps herself to a cigar from Silco’s stash.

She only gets as far as rummaging through his desk for the cutter. (Jinx must have absconded with it. Again.) Something in her hindbrain makes her go still; an old, well-tested instinct that says ‘something isn’t right.’

Sevika freezes. Her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of intruders, or one of Jinx’s traps. She strains her ears; aside from the faint, scuttling noises of stray pests, it’s silent.

Too silent.

There should be more talk coming from downstairs; she hadn’t really expected everyone to listen to her when she ordered them all to clear out. There should be music playing, people arguing, clacks from the balls on the pool table. At the very least, there should be complaining and the noises of a final clear down.

She’d half-expected Silver to follow her upstairs. Or maybe Ran, at least. But there’s no sounds of someone climbing upstairs, or Silver’s high-pitched voices, or even creaking floorboards in the hall outside.

Sevika pulls out a knife she keeps tucked in a sheath hidden behind the waistband of her pants. She creeps forward, deadly silent, until she reaches the door of Silco’s office. She gingerly places her right hand on the doorknob, until it’s completely encapsulated by her grip, then slowly turns the handle. Once the latch is fully retracted, she tucks herself behind the door and inches it open. She waits for a beat, then another, then peers around the corner.

The bar is empty.

Now that the door’s open, she can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around the main bar floor. There’s no conversation, though; it’s too quiet to be the usual crew, for another matter.

Sevika stalks down the hall. She quietly, efficiently clears each room before she passes it, until she reaches the end of the outer wall, where the balcony begins. She tucks herself into the shadows, then peers around the corner.

You’re down on the bar floor, putting the remaining chairs up on the tables.

Sevika watches you for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. Where the fuck is everyone else? She blinks, until her brain finally processes that The Last Drop has not been broken into by assassins or other hooligans, then steps around the corner and into the full light of the bar. She taps the railing of the balcony with her metal hand to alert you to her presence. When you look up, she gestures around aimlessly. “Where’d they go?”

You look around, then back up at her and shrug with one shoulder. “You said to get out.”

“Doesn’t mean they’d actually listen.”

Your gaze cuts away from hers. You duck your head, then go back to putting up the chairs. “Might’ve pushed ‘em. Enforced the order.” You give a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you wanted ‘em gone.”

Sevika grunts and nods. Fair enough. At least, now, she doesn’t have to deal with Silver lingering around. For lack of knowing what else to do, she watches you as you continue tidying things up for the night. “We don’t pay you to do that.”

You shrug; your back’s to her, now, as you work your way around a circular table. “Doesn’t really matter. Thieram deserves a night off, every now and then.”

There’s not much point in loitering on the balcony and staring at you like a mooning idiot. She strides across the length of the balcony, tromps down the stairs, then crosses the distance to the table you’re working in three strong steps. She grabs one of the remaining chairs, flips it upside down with ease, then hooks the seat of the chair on the table top.

You go still for a moment. You watch her, gaze following her every movement, until you relax again and resume working. “‘M sorry ‘bout earlier.”

She nearly trips over the chair she’s picking up. Sevika stalls, blinks, then sets the chair back on the floor and levels you with an incredulous, confused stare. “What?”

“For kicking your ass.” The corner of your mouth briefly ticks up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it washes away to true contrition. “Wasn’t trying to humiliate you ‘n front of everyone.”

“I–” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Can’t imagine where that narrative came from. “I’m not. You didn’t.” She hangs the chair from the table, then scoffs, indignant. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not Arik.”

You smirk, but stay still as you watch her for a few moments. “You were mad about something.”

“I was mad at Silver,” Sevika grouses, careful to avoid making eye contact. And her lousy sense of timing.

You let her get the last few chairs, opting instead to grab a tray and collect stray glasses and empty beer bottles. “You two okay?”

She snorts. “We’re not involved enough to be ‘okay’ or otherwise. We’ve fucked before. End of story.”

“...Did she do something to you?”

The tight, lethal quietness in your voice gets her attention. She straightens up, meets your gaze, and shakes her head. “No. She just gets on my nerves now and then, s’all.”

You grunt, understanding, then add a couple more glasses to your tray before carrying the lot over to the bar.

Sevika grabs a couple stray, half-empty bottles of whiskey, tequila, and vodka, then follows partially in your wake. She stops at the bar counter, watching as you round the end so you can dispose of the beer bottles and set the used glasses in the sink. She sets the half-consumed bottles on the counter, then leans against the neon light-edged lip while she watches you. “Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.” She smirks when you half-turn, brows lightly drawn together, then waggles her metal fingers. “Figured I’d have you licked.”

You snort, then shake your head. “Might’ve.” You set the last of the glasses in the sink, then drop the beer bottles in the recycling can. “Probably would’ve if we’d gone longer. You’d have me beat on stamina.”

She can’t stop her automatic, teasing, too sultry for its own good reply. “Oh, I doubt that.”

You do a quick double take.You stare at her over your shoulders, eyes the size of dinner plates. Then, your lips press together before quirking upwards in a shy smile. You laugh softly. “Yeah, well, your mechanics would’ve won, in the end.” You toss the last of the bottles into the recycling can, then turn and step to the bar. “Figured it was just best to–” you draw your fingers across your neck in a quick slash and click your tongue “–cut things quick, override the locking mechanisms.”

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

You lick your lips, then grin. You eye her for a moment, shifting from foot to foot –then, you grab the remaining bottles and crouch so you can stow them beneath the bar counter. “Course, helps that you’re shit at arm wrestling, too.”

“Excuse me?” she laughs, caught off guard and bemused. “Run that by me again?”

“You’re shit at arm wrestling.” You chuckle as you stand. “Your form’s terrible. Makes you easy to beat, even if I wasn’t stronger than you.”

She grins wide, exhilarated. Fighting words. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You plant your palms against the bartop. “‘S how it seems to me.” You smirk –which grows into a smile as she looks you over–then prop your right arm against the counter. “I could show you a couple tricks. Improve your odds a bit.”

She takes the bait like the happiest, dumbest fish that ever lived and sets her right elbow atop the counter. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

“Right off the bat–” You reach forward and adjust the angle of her arm. “‘S really not about raw power. I mean, it helps, but angles are a lot more important.” Your hands slide along the length of her arm, adjusting things until you’re satisfied with how she’s positioned. You nod to yourself, then move to her wrist. You hold her right hand with both of yours. “Gotta think about how you’re holding your hand, too. Too many people wind up pushing with their forearms. Means that they got their hands at the wrong angle, most of the time. You want to be pushing with your upper arm and shoulder.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” she drawls, layering on the sarcasm to –hopefully–hide how breathless she is.

You snort, then lower your left hand and grip her right hand with yours –assume the position. “Alright. Try now.”

She does –not with as much vigor as she used in the initial match, but she still puts decent effort into it. Her eyebrows spike high when she feels less strain than earlier. “Shit.”

You flash her a lopsided grin. “See? Knowing what you’re doing helps.”

“Bite me.”

You fake a grimace. “Not until you shower first. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“You implying something?”

“I’ve seen how many people you can beat up in a week, Sev.”

She chuckles, then shrugs in concession. “Fair enough.” She grips your hand tighter and smirks wickedly before shoving against your hand, hard. “Hope you’re ready to join the list–”

You grunt –then brace against her onslaught and force her hand the other way.

“Shit!” Sevika strains against your hand, but it’s veritably useless as you slowly push her hand downward (at least you have to work harder for it, this time). “Son of a bitch –motherfucker!”

“Still stronger than you,” you fire back as you finally pin the back of her hand against the bartop. You smile, impish and sweet. “But that was a good try.” You grin when she glowers at you, then toss your head back and laugh when she flips you off with her left hand.

She can’t think of a retort; the wrestling tugged your shirt off kilter, and your laugh exposed something new –fresh, smooth ink along the side of your neck, previously hidden by your collar. She stares, tracing the way the tendrils of the flowers curve around your neck and down your clavicle before disappearing under your shirt. “That’s new.”

You look down at her, blinking rapidly, then crane your neck to look down when she gestures loosely at your chest. “Oh. Yeah.” You shrug with the opposite shoulder. “Wanted to do something for myself. Cover up some of the shit I got inside.” You hesitate, then swallow hard and ask. “Do –do you wanna see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” The meaning of your offer doesn’t really hit until you let go of her hand so you can start unbuttoning your top. Sevika locks her knees to keep from toppling over as all the blood rushes Southward from her head. Janna, help me.

Mercifully, you only undo the top three buttons on your shirt. Unmercifully, that gives you enough leeway to push the right side of your shirt down over your shoulder, revealing more of your chest and your neck.

Oh, and the tattoo.

It’s pretty. It’s a good piece, too, done by someone who knew what they were doing. The design is a dense cluster of flowers that fans up the side of your neck and down over your collarbone.

“That’s real pretty,” Sevika ekes out, voice gone to gravel. She reaches up to touch it, but catches herself before her hand leaves the bar. Don’t startle her. “Do you mind?”

It takes you a moment, but you look down when she gestures with her flesh hand. “Oh.” You let out a soft, trembling breath. Your throat flexes as you swallow. “Yeah –go for it.”

Everything that follows feels like a dream. The world seems to take on a warm, golden hue that overpowers the glaring neon lights and the dark shadow of night outside. It feels like she’s moving through molasses, achingly slow as she lifts her hand towards your neck.

Your skin is unbelievably soft beneath her fingertips. The lines of ink stretch slightly as she traces down your neck and over your shoulder.

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Something about your heavy, trembling exhale makes her look up.

You’re staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. Your lips are parted, and you’re practically panting despite standing still.

But you’re not pulling away. You’re not shaking. If anything, you’re practically melting beneath her hand. And your gaze is locked on her face –practically zeroed in on her mouth…

Oh.

She owes Ran a drink. Or another kick in the shin. Maybe both.

This, however, is at least more familiar territory –so long as she plays her cards right.

Various options flit through her mind, but they all desiccate before they reach her tongue. She quickly finds herself locking up instead as she tries to figure out what the fuck to say. Shitshitshitshitshit–

(She’s never been more grateful that you kicked everyone out. Ran would never let her live this down.)

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

Sevika swallows hard. Go big or go home. Not like the world’s gonna end if she says ‘no.’ She clears her throat. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking attractive?”

“I–” Your eyes go wide as you sputter. Your gaze flicks between her eyes and her mouth. “Not –no. Not really.”

“Shame,” Sevika drawls. She traces her thumb down the stem of one of the flowers inked into your neck, then looks back up at you. “You’d think they’d have eyes. I’ve noticed since the first time we met.”

You snort, equanimity somewhat restored. “What, in an illegal prison fight club soaked in the blood of others?”

She smirks and winks at you. “You made it work.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth as you smile. You duck your head bashfully, then brace your forearms against the countertop –which puts you closer to her height. “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I didn’t notice you ‘like that’ from the start.”

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

You shake your head, gaze still glued on the countertop. “I was, uh, a little concerned with surviving –making sure you didn’t knock my teeth out with your metal fist, that sort of thing.” You let out a little laugh, then look at her. “But I noticed later.”

Warmth blooms in her chest and abdomen. She grins, soft and slow. “Really?” Her grin grows when you smile shyly and nod. “Well, shit. Lucky me.” She strokes her thumb along your tattoo again; satisfaction curls in her stomach when you shiver.

“I–” You lick your lips and look at her eyes, then her lips, then back up, then back down again, then back up again. “I don’t…” Your gaze locks onto her lips when she smirks; your pupils blow wide, and you let out a ragged, heavy breath. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Heady elation blooms in her chest and quickly spreads through her body. “That,” she murmurs as she slides her fingers beneath your chin and leans in, “sounds great to me.”

Your lips are soft against hers. Hesitant. You freeze, scarcely even breathing.

But you’re not pulling away –or panicking–so she decides to stay the course. She presses her lips a bit more firmly against yours, then smirks when you let out a quiet moan and angle your head towards hers. There we go. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and pulls back incrementally to assess your interest level.

You’re trembling. There’s a faint glow of sweat on your forehead. Your breaths come ragged and fast, chest rising and falling heavily. Your eyelids are half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that your eyes nearly look black.

Before she can do anything, you lean in and kiss her again; this time, it’s her turn to moan against your mouth.

It’s clumsy. It’s easy to tell that you don’t have much –if any–experience in this department. But your unabashed eagerness more than makes up for lacking finesse.

Sevika gently grasps your jaw with her right hand, guiding you through the series of kisses that follow. She carefully angles your head as she pleases, and pulls back intermittently to both catch her breath and see what you’ll do. When you keep following her lead, she decides to nip at your lower lip –just to see if it’ll draw you out of your shell more.

You let out a throaty growl when her teeth graze your lower lip –and then you pull away.

A mix of disappointment and fear flash through her stomach –but it all drains away when you vault over the counter and land next to her. She smirks as you crowd into her space, but frown when genuine trepidation settles over your face. “What?”

Your brows pinch together. “I–” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Oh. That’s all. She smiles, lax and confident, then places her hands on your broad shoulders. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

She slides her hands down your chiseled arms, then takes your hands and places them on her hips. “Anywhere.”

You’re too still at first –nerves driven by inexperience. But you loosen up when she nips at your lower lip again. You draw in a guttural breath, then squeeze her hips tighter when she curls her fingers into your waist. You press closer to her when she slides her tongue against yours. When she slides her right hand up the back of your neck and tugs at the soft hair at your nape, you growl, then slide your hands around her ass and squeeze.

Finally. Sevika moans softly and arches against you. She wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, so she can keep you close, and rests her left hand on your hip. She plunders your mouth with her tongue, then moans again when you grope her ass more firmly. She hooks one metal finger through one of the belt loops on your pants and tugs you closer –then gasps when you shove against the bar.

You crowd against her, kissing her fiercely, eagerly. Your hands cup her ass and lift, forcing her onto the balls of her feet so you have better access to her.

Surprise flits up her spine. She’s not used to being in this position; most women come to her to be manhandled, not the other way around. But she can see the appeal of it; there’s a certain giddiness in the gut that accompanies it, like the hang time from jumping across rooftops.

The kiss devolves into something artless and hungry. The two of you meet each other in the middle, pressed against each other like teenagers in a closet.

She’s starting to get into that state where she feels like she’s melting into you, and vice versa. The bar, the faint drone of passersby always present in the Lanes, the buzz of the neon lights that wrap around the bartop, the arm wrestling match less than an hour ago –all of it’s gone, blurred into background coloration like splotches on one of those fancy, impression-type paintings, for which Pilties drop the equivalent of a Trencher’s life earnings (and then some). There’s that familiar, ravenous ache in her cunt. She ought to ask you back to her place; The Last Drop hardly seems poignant enough for your first time. But the notion of stopping your eager exploration of her body is downright offensive –especially when your open mouth catches her jaw and sends arousal curling through her gut.

You pause when she tips her head back. A few ragged pants fan across the sensitized, blood-hot skin of her neck. You swallow, then clear your throat. “I –is this–”

“Yes.” She curls her right hand around the back of your neck, then gently presses your forward until you lean the rest of the way in and press your lips against her throat. Her eyelids flutter as you trail soft, closed mouth kisses over the hollow of her throat. She moans softly, and her fingers curl into your short hair. Fuck. She waits for a bit, letting you explore, but pipes up again when she feels you growing more hesitant –nerves winning out over exploration. “Use your tongue.” She shudders when you lick beneath her jaw. “Attagirl.”

The praise does something for you. You moan into her skin, then repeat the motion again. You swirl your tongue against her throat, mimicking the way the two of you had kissed seconds before.

“That’s it,” Sevika encourages you, eyes rolling back in her head. She rolls her hips against you, then groans when you press closer, neatly pinning her against the bar. “Good girl.”

You whine, loud and broken, then lift. You half lay her out on the bar, then support the rest of her by locking your arms just beneath her ass. You bend over her and bury your face in her neck, devouring her like a starved stray.

Sevika locks her ankles behind your back. She clutches at the back of your shirt with her right hand, and braces herself against the bartop with her left arm. She’s in the perfect position to grind against you, so that’s just what she does.

A small, idle fragment of her mind notes just how great this is. Yes, she enjoys having her way with women –and she’ll get to you soon enough–but there’s something to be said for receiving. It’s a new spin on “being eaten alive,” and she’s never been happier to be dinner.

She slides her fingers into your hair when your mouth trails lower, towards her clavicle. “Good girl.” She gasps, then tightens her grip on your hair when you drag your teeth over her collarbone. “That’s it –good girl, good girl–”

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

Something crashes in the alleyway outside. There’s a loud slam, followed by the crystalline crack of shattering glasses. An enraged, muffled shout ensues, followed by more heavy thudding.

You both freeze.

She recovers first. A few minutes of hearing proves it’s just a couple of angry drunks going at it –she can hear slurred, if muffled, arguing and grunting that accompanies being punched. Idiots. She turns back to you–

You’re completely stiff. Your eyes are wide, gaze flicking around the bar. You’ve gone from holding her to gripping the edge of the bar top.

Sevika winces faintly when she hears your knuckles crack. She opens her mouth to reassure you–

Another thud makes you flinch –and then you press down against her.

Sevika grunts. She tries to sit up, only for you to push her back down. She stops struggling when you use your arm to cover the top of her head. What the–

There’s something so deeply protective about the gesture that it makes her brain short circuit. You’re literally covering her with your body, as though the ceiling’s about to collapse on top of the both of you.

It’s sweet. It’s also bewildering because nothing bad is fucking happening. It’s just drunks in the alley; they’ll probably pass out long before they could ever beat each other to death.

Sevika gingerly splays her fingers against your back, between your shoulder blades. She murmurs your name, but gets no response –not even a glance of recognition. Her stomach drops when another round of shouting makes you flinch. She feels your chest push against hers as your breathing speeds up –and okay, that’s enough, time to divert things. She says your name, louder this time, then carefully cups the side of your face with her right hand. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Just look at me, alright?”

You jolt when her thumb sweeps across your cheek. You do look down at her, though, and let out a shaky breath when you meet her gaze.

She revels, just for a moment, in how quickly you melt again under her attention. You’re still tense –you haven’t let up your death grip on the bar top–but your shoulders loosen up and your breathing slows a bit. You swallow hard, then lean every so slightly into her touch.

Focus. She can already feel herself getting sucked back into dreamy, brainless bliss. Focus, focus, focus. She blinks hard, then clears her throat. “Hey. Let’s get out of here, yeah? My place is quieter.” She pushes up on her left arm so the counter isn’t digging into her back. “More comfortable.”

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

Sevika swallows a grimace. Shit. Maybe Ran was right; she’s rusty, too eager, and now she’s pushing too fast. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “We can –I just–” You set her down, then lick your lips as you rock from foot to foot. “My bed’s probably bigger.” You shrug and shove your hands in your pants pockets. “That’s all.”

Only several years of playing cards keeps her from sagging in relief. She nods, trying to process as panic flashes and ebbs, then takes a moment to study you. She notes the tightness in your shoulders, the way you’ve got your head ducked, and presses her lips together faintly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Your eyes flash, and you step closer to her. “It’s not,” you growl, “an issue of want.” You swallow, then let out a self-deprecating laugh –which, fortunately, prompts you to relax a little. “I just won’t know what I’m doing, s’all.”

“I can work with that.” Sevika closes the distance between the two of you, gripping your hips when you bend down and kiss her again. She savors the feeling of your lips for a moment, then pulls away and grins up at you. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

#sass writes #sevika x reader #fueled by the author's desire to be built like a mountain #but alas i am a twig #also i know jackshit about arm wrestling #don't use this as a guide on how to win at arm wrestling #smut will be coming in part two

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months ago

Text

Inside Man: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

You and Dean walk into a nearby bar since Sam took the Impala to Wichita. You fix your bra when you walk in and smooth down the ends of your hair. Fucking makes you thirsty. You turn around and walk backward toward the bar counter, your eyes on Dean.

"Can you get pregnant while being soulless?"

"God, I hope not."

"You should have pulled out."

You smirk and turn back toward the bar. The place is busy with people who are playing pool, throwing darts, eating good food, and enjoying each other's company. You order a double for yourself while Dean orders a plate of nachos. It's amusing how hard he's trying to stay away from alcohol as if he doesn't already have anger issues. You down the drink in one gulp when you hear the obnoxious boys over at the pool table shout in victory over their win.

"Boom! Money. Now. Loser!" one of them shouts. "Give me your cash. Now. Right now."

"What's up with the Abercrombie rejects?" Dean asks the bartender when he passes.

"College kids 'slumming it'. His name is Ty. He always comes in here and does this shit."

"Slumming? What are you talking about? This is a nice joint, huh? You got those custom urinal pucks."

"Come on, bitches. Who's next? twenty bucks a game. Twenty bucks," the same man announces to the entire bar.

You and Dean look at each other and you smirk.

"I'd love nothing more than to show those dicks who's really boss."

"You know, for once, I agree with you."

Dean messes his hair to look spiker than it is while you pull down your shirt slightly to make your breasts stand out more. The bartender shakes his head but doesn't do anything to stop you from going over there.

"Yo! We'll play," Dean says in his douchebag voice.

Ty looks at you up and down before looking at Dean.

"Seriously?"

"What, I've seen enough to know how to play. I'm real good at holding the stick thingy," you say as if you're a dumb bitch who doesn't know shit.

"Dude, he's blitzed," Ty's friend says.

"No, no, no, I'm good. Let me play," Dean says.

"He's fine. Grab a stick," Ty says.

Dean is the one who plays a few rounds with Ty and his friends, bad you might add. He wants them to let their guard down. You play the dumb bitch who cheers for her husband while Ty and his friends rack in the money you're so willing to give them. After Dean loses the game, he looks at you and you smirk knowing he is about to hand them their asses.

"Okay, alright. Again?" Dean says.

"Sure. Make it a hundred this time."

Dean nods and you reach into his back pocket for his wallet. He doesn't stop you when you place three one hundred dollar bills onto the side of the table.

"Make it three hundred." Both men look at each other with wide eyes. "What do you say?"

"Give me your cash," Ty says to his friend.

He puts the cash down on top of yours and Dean tsks as he shakes his head.

"I think you're a little short there. Why don't you toss in the watch?"

"My dad gave me this watch," Ty says.

"I'm sure it's a very touching story. Got a little tear in my eye," you say with a fake pout. "Come on. Are we gonna play or not?"

"Fine," Ty takes off his watch and adds it to the pile, "but don't come crying to me when you've lost all your drug money." Ty smirks and leans in a bit toward you. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make your time worthwhile."

It takes everything in you not to slap him. You want to see his face when Dean beats them.

"You're gonna regret saying that my friend," Dean chuckles and picks up the triangle to rack the balls.

This time, Dean doesn't let them get a shot in. He immediately "sobers up" and sinks in every single striped ball until all that's left is every single solid and the eight ball. If Ty was in a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of his ears.

"That one," Dean indicates to a corner pocket before shooting the eight ball into it.

"You hustled me," Ty says angrily.

"Well, you're pretty quick for a guy who's all hair gel and body spray." Dean picks up all the cash and Ty's father's watch. "Thanks, fellas." He looks at you. "I'll be right back."

Ty is about to go over to Dean to hurt him but his friend holds him back from doing so.

"Forget it, dude. He's an ass."

"Yeah, but my ass," you smirk and trail a finger across Ty's collarbone. "Don't beat yourself up too much, Ty. Now I don't have to cry about losing my drug money." Ty glares down at you. "Awh, don't worry, sweetheart, you definitely made my time worthwhile."

You walk away from the duo and head back to the bar. You're about to order another double when the front doors open. You look to see a very small redhead walk in. Rowena. She is definitely up to no good. The last time you saw her, you didn't have any magic. Oh yes, this will be so much fun. You side off the bar stool and hide behind one of the big wooden pillars by the bar. She doesn't seem to notice you as she walks over to the two men you just hustled. She clears everyone out of the bar but Ty and his friend. Dean comes out of the bathroom but you stop him when you see Rowena whisper something to the two men.

"Witch is here. Should you take this or shall I?"

"You already know the answer to that," he whispers back.

"I won't go easy."

"No one is saying you should."

Once Rowena is done doing her thing on the two men, she sits down at the bar and grabs someone's leftover glass of wine. You two walk into the main room and she smirks at you.

"Dean. Y/N."

"Rowena. What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" You smirk. "I'm sorry. Did I say 'nice girl'? I meant 'evil skank'."

"You say that like it's an insult," she smiles, "but nice girls, they're pathetic. Here's to evil skanks."

Ty and his friend come out of the shadows with blood streaking out of their eyes. They look like the girl Rowena spelled when you first encountered her. No matter. They won't have a chance to hurt you. Dean steps away to let you handle witch business, and you turn to Rowena with an amused smile.

"Is this meant to scare me?"

"It should considering you don't have any magic."

You look at your hands and red magic pours from your palms.

"Wanna rethink that?"

Rowena sets the glass of wine on the bar counter and stands up in fear. Ty runs at Dean but you thrust your outstretched hand at him without looking away from Rowena. Ty stops in his tracks and looks confused as to why he can't move. His friend charges at you but you thrust your other hand at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. Your magic shoots at them and encases their bodies. You pull your magic back, pulling the spell from their bodies. You move your hands toward Rowena, use the spell along with your magic, and blast her back. She topples over a table and some chairs, falling on her ass on the floor.

"Come here, boys," you say. Ty and his friend are compelled to listen to you. You stand in between them and place your hands on both of their shoulders. Your eyes shine red as do theirs so you know they're under your command. "Listen here, pets, she's your target now. Go fetch."

Both men run at Rowena quickly but she has tricks up her sleeves that prevent them from hurting her. She chants something in Latin and blasts them back into the bar counter. Both men hit their heads so hard that it severs your connection to them, and they pass out immediately. Dean takes another step back, fearful of what might happen between two powerful witches. Rowena takes off her coat to reveal symbols she has painted red on her skin. She rolls up her sleeves to reveal more symbols.

"You're no match for me," you laugh.

"We'll see about that."

She yells something in Irish this time and the symbols on her body start to glow purple. Purple magic shoots out of her body and into yours but it doesn't hurt. No, it sends you on a high like never before. You gasp and tilt your head abc as you absorb her power. When she's done, she looks confused as to why you're either not dead or on the floor crying.

"Not possible," she whispers.

"That," you moan. "I want more of that."

You blast her with her magic but instead of hurting her, you pull your magic back like what you did with Ty and his friend. Rowena's magic starts being pulled from her body and she gasps in pain. She can't stop it even if she wants to. You're too powerful for anyone to stop. She doubles over in pain the more you stay high. She chants something in Latin which forms a protective bubble around her, severing the connection. You stumble back into another wooden pillar and look at Dean with hooded eyes.

"Better do something now."

He marches over to her and pins her to the bar counter with a knife to her throat. She knows if she tries anything, he will kill her. The high you're on is already fading but the Mark on your collarbone burns with intensity. It's satisfied... for now.

"If you try anything, I will unleash all of Y/N onto you." Rowena looks at you and you wave with a smirk. "Do you understand me?"

"Fine. You win this one," she glares.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving my son."

"Your son?"

"Crowley," she rolls her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," you laugh.

"My son is a king, a God, or he would be if you didn't snap your fingers, and he comes running like a wee lapdog."

"Lady, your son is a coward at best," you roll your eyes.

"You two are a good influence on him. That's why you two need to die."

"How's that working out for you? You're no match for Y/N," Dean whispers lowly.

"Oh, I'll try again," she smirks.

"What, you think I'm just gonna let you walk out of here now?"

"I think you two are heroes." She looks at you. "You could have killed those men, but you didn't because they're innocent. Because you're the good girl and you want them to live."

"Really? That's what you think?" you smirk. Before Dean can stop you, you raise your hand and twist your wrist, causing both men's necks to snap. Rowena's eyes widen at their dead bodies. "They mean nothing to me, Rowena. You mean nothing to me." You walk closer to her and Dean and shove Dean to the side. You grip her neck and squeeze tightly, and she claws at your hand fearfully. "If you don't want to leave here in a body bag, I suggest you stay the hell away from me. I have no problem ending your sad and pathetic little life." You drop your words to a whisper and lean in closer. "You are nothing compared to me. Understand?"

You let go of her neck and she coughs violently. She does the smart thing and leaves while she still can. You look at Dean to see him looking at the two men you just killed. You roll your eyes and walk past him to get to the bar.

"Save me the waterworks, Dean. They were collateral damage."

Dean doesn't say a word as he picks up one of the men. He needs to get rid of them before the public comes back. When Dean comes back from burying two bodies, you're behind the bar fixing him a drink. You slide it on the counter and he takes it without a single word to you. He takes a sip and looks at you knowing that Mam snitched to the King. You look behind him to see Crowley standing there with an angry look on his face.

"Been waiting on you."

Dean turns to face Crowley.

"Squirrel. Witch."

"Bitch," you say. "Where's Mommy Dearest?"

"Would it make a difference?"

"Not really," you shrug. "So, are you two going to do this or are you just going to stare at each other like star-crossed lovers?"

Crowley wants to kill you and Dean for what you did to Rowena but after hearing what you had to say, that all changed. Turns out when Rowena went back to Hell to snitch, she banged herself up pretty good so it looks like you beat her ass. She wanted Crowley to kill you and Dean because she failed herself. By the end of this, you're behind the bar making drinks while Crowley and Dean sit on the other side drinking what you serve them.

"She wishes I did more to her," you laugh. "All I did was steal a little magic."

"So, she's a liar."

"What did you expect? She's the mother of a demon. She's not exactly sprouting white wings and a halo."

Crowley looks over and sees the Mark peeking out from your shirt.

"Mother says that Mark is just a curse and can be removed. Of course, she doesn't know how."

You slam the glass in your hand so hard onto the bar counter that it shatters. Blood trickles down your hand but you ignore it. Both men jump from shock and stare at you with wide eyes, Dean more so than Crowley.

"If you so much as search for a cure, I'm going to punish him," you point to Dean while looking at Crowley, "and he knows exactly what I'll do."

Dean and Crowley look at each other, and there is fear in Dean's eyes.

"Don't look for it."

Crowley takes a sip of his alcohol and decides to change the subject before someone dies.

"Mother says I've gone soft."

Dean relaxes knowing he's on safe ground now.

"You have. Yeah, maybe it's all the human blood that Sammy pumped into you, but the old Crowley would have come in here with hellhounds and demons, and he would have blown the roof off the joint. Now? You didn't want to fight. You wanted to talk. Maybe I've changed, too. Here I am playing Dr. Phil to the King of Hell. Never saw that coming," Dean scoffs.

"Maybe we're getting old."

"Never saw that coming, either. What is it, huh? Why are you letting Mommy Dearest tie you into knots?"

"Because we're family. Blood."

"That's not the same thing. A wise man once told me, 'Family don't end in blood.'," you chuckle at the memory of your father, "but doesn't start there, either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family's there through the good and bad. They got your back," Dean looks at you, "even when it hurts. That's family. Does that sound like your mother?"

"Take it from Dean to talk about family," you say. "He's sticking with me even after all I've done to try and prove him otherwise."

"I'm not giving up on you no matter what you say or do."

"You see?" You smirk. "Blind loyalty. Would your mother do that for you?"

Crowley leaves the bar soon after, and you and Dean leave the bar after him. It's time to go home anyway. You don't want to stay in your room for the rest of the night so you drop Dean off at home and take the car to be anywhere but here. Dean doesn't mind since Sam is back. He wants to talk to him without the fear of you overhearing them.

"What happened? Where's Cas?"

"Where's Y/N?"

"Out. I don't know when she'll be back so talk."

"Metatron knows more than what he was letting on. He has to know about the cure. Cas and I broke him out of Heaven."

"Broke him out? How?"

"Bobby. We needed someone on the inside and he's just as good as any to do it."

Dean nods in agreement. He wishes he could have been there to talk to Bobby but in a way, he's glad he wasn't.

"He's not going to talk," Dean sighs.

"He will now. He's human. Cas stole his Grace."

"Wow, a human Metatron. I would have loved to see that. Don't tell Y/N that or she will kill him."

"I know. We were going to kill him but he knows where Cas' grace is. He said he'd take him to it. What about you? What did you two do?"

"Went to a bar. Played some pool. Got ambushed by Crowley's mother. Rowena."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam gasps.

"I wish. Y/N killed two innocent people and almost killed Rowena. Crowley came, we talked, and now we're all best friends," Dean says sarcastically. "To be honest, I don't know if there is anything left of her to save."

"We're not giving up, Dean. We'll find this cure. You'll get her back." Dean nods but doesn't say anything about it. "I have something for you. I already read ours." Sam takes out the two envelopes from his jacket pocket One sealed. One opened. "Bobby wrote one for us and one for Y/N."

Dean takes the letters and stares at your name written in Bobby's scrawly handwriting.

"Don't give this to her."

"I know. Cas told me not to."

"No, I mean it, Sam. She'll burn it."

"I know," Sam says softly. "Put it away until she's ready to read it. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

Sam leaves Dean alone in the war room. He opens his letter with shaky hands and begins reading it.

Sam and Dean, So... this is weird, huh? Look, I just wanted to say that I know what you two are trying to do for each other. Cas told me everything. I'm not asking you to stop because it breaks my heart to know my daughter is a shell of who she used to be. I know about my grandbabies and I want you two to do whatever it takes to protect them. My daughter loves them with all her heart and I don't want to see them in Heaven a moment before they're supposed to be here. I'm not there to tell you what to do or to guide you, but I know you two will make the right choice. Sam, you're a good man. One of the best. I'm damn proud of you, son. I was content up here but getting the call from you has made me the happiest I've been in forever, no matter what it costs. Dean, I can't imagine what you're going through right now. I'm damn proud of you, too. I wish I could have heard your voice but I know you've got your hands full at the moment. When you feel like giving up, just remember that it won't last forever. You'll get Y/N back and your children. Anyway, I can't wait to hear what you three have done in your life when you finally do get to Heaven. Make it a long one. Stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass. Bobby

Dean lets the letter flutter to the table as tears stream down his face.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

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