#it started as fem cas for a fic I was writing

[mischieviem]

Lesbeams

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Like A Big Girl (Quirkless!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Take all of me like a big girl, baby.”

Pairing: Quirkless!Touya “Dabi” Todoroki x Black!Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: In which you get the surprise of your life when your apartment neighbor and crush (who happens to be extremely anti-social) shows up at your housewarming party to celebrate your moving into your first-ever apartment after a breakup. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ One Shot (MINORS GTFO); Non-Quirked; Disfigured!Dabi (he has burn scars); Alcohol Consumption; Marijuana Use; Flirting; Shotgunning; Foreplay; Exhibitionism; Fingering; Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Loud Sex; Doggystyle; Scar Appreciation; Non-Protective PIV Sex; Creampie; Scent Play/Marking; Spanking; Mild Degradation; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: WE A COLLEGE GRADUATE BIH!!! I'm so so happy & so excited for the future. Even more for the summertime cuz now I'm free to write! I hope y'all like this one. I needed to write something smutty for my favorite crusty villain. Enjoy & fuck Enji!! -Jazz 💋💋💋

**********

You’ve never been so nervous before until you’re sitting on your couch with a lukewarm tequila sunrise, waiting for your guests of honor to arrive. 

Or rather one guest in particular. You know you shouldn’t be at all. You know you should be socializing and talking to the other guests currently occupying your brand-new apartment in celebration of your down payment and a new accomplishment in life.

You should be laughing, joking, and flirting with the fine-ass men that Rumi insisted on bringing with her to help with catering and cleaning before the party started. 

But you just can’t. The motivation to do so isn’t there, and the reason why is embarrassing.

Rumi, who sits next to you on the couch, looks you up and down. Her stark white hair is piled up into a messy bun on her head and the red bodycon dress she chose for tonight hugs her toned body and legs just right. If anyone could get a lay tonight, it’d be her. “You might wanna smile, babe. You’re scaring off your guests.” 

She gives you a cheeky grin as she sips her drink–a whiskey smash. You’re so glad you managed to find a bartender to make drinks for tonight thanks to Keigo knowing him from his job. You’re even happier that your job’s salary allows you to pay him $550 by the end of tonight. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, bumping her with your knee. But even her brash humor doesn’t make you smile an inch. Rumi rolls her eyes and turns to Nemuri, one of your other hot and longtime friends. “Nemuri, please get this girl another drink so she can get up out of this seat,” Rumi sighs. “I’m tired of seeing that face on her face.” 

Nemuri stands from her seat in her sundress and flats, looking like a sexy girl next door. “I’ll get you some water, honey.” She gives you a wink before making a dash to the snack table located in the kitchen, dodging between people and the wafts of marijuana smoke in the air. Just weed. No vapes or E-cigs are allowed tonight which you made clear in your invitations. 

“I don’t have a face,” you grumble, glaring at Rumi. “And I have gotten out of my seat. I’m the host, aren’t I?” 

“Exactly!” Rumi replies. “Which means you should be walkin’ around and hosting. Not sittin’ here, mopin’ about some dickhead and worryin’ if he’ll show up. Plus, you know how men are: they show up when they want to.” 

“Not true,” you scoff. “That’s a fact that is relevant to my ex, but not to every guy in existence.” Even referring to your ex as simply “your ex” is enough to make you want to down the rest of your drink. Not only did you decide to throw this party to celebrate your buying and moving into your first “big girl” apartment as the start of a new chapter of your life, but you also wanted to celebrate being free of the leech you called your boyfriend of three years. 

“And I’m not moping, okay?” you sharply tell Rumi. “I just wanna make sure there are enough champagne flutes and food. If I get new guests, that means I need more, right?” 

Rumi eyes you down, knowing damn well you’re lying through your teeth. “Whatever you say,” she sing-songs. Nemuri returns with the iced water, handing it to you. “Here you are, honey,” she coos. “What are we talking about?” 

Rumi is happy to fill her girlfriend in. “The fact that she’s ready to toss a wedding ring at this man who’s afraid of leavin’ his apartment for groceries. If she says that’s not why she’s got that sour face, she’s lying.” 

“Hey!” you gasp, kicking at her ankle with your heel. “It’s not a lie! It’s the truth! This is the first party I’m hosting and it’s a lot to worry about, especially since it’s my new apartment.” 

At the beginning of the year is when you found your dream apartment complex. It came with a pool, a tennis court, a gym, and a laundry mat along with central air, free wifi, and vending machines. The neighborhood surrounding the complex was quiet at night, noisy with kids in the morning, and nearby a hub of parks, restaurants, and public transportation. It was the perfect place to begin the new chapter of your life. 

And not to mention a man, in particular, you had a slight thing for lives here. So, after putting down a payment, signing papers, and getting help moving in, you were finally living on your own three months later. Only a party could really welcome you into your new four walls.  But so far, you aren���t enjoying it as much as you should be. 

And that’s all because someone you desperately want to see here tonight is missing. 

“And second, Dabi isn’t afraid of leavin’ his apartment, Rumi,” you criticize your friend. “He’s just not a people person.” At least, that’s what Keigo told you when you met Dabi for the first time. “According to him,” he scoffed. “It’s just an excuse to not socialize, really. But he’s always been like that since we were kids.” 

You caught that vibe from Dabi as soon as you met him several years ago before you met your ex. You met Dabi through Keigo when he dragged his friend to a club to meet up with you and Rumi one spring night for happy hour.

You had heard about Dabi many times before–that he’s a firefighter; that he has some dark humor; that he is kinda weird and awkward but still a pretty nice guy (according to Keigo). As soon as you got a look at that black hair, tight tee shirt, and buff arms roped his tattoos, you were entranced by him. Though he seemed somewhat out of place and like he didn’t want to be there, he carried with him an intoxicating aura, like he was your favorite cocktail drink. 

You were so taken aback at how hot he was that you barely noticed the burn scars. He only had them on his face, neck, and snaking up his arm from what you could see–healed yet puffy skin from second-degree burns coat the left side of his face, cascading down his neck to his upper torso and disappearing down his shirt. Though his arm is roped in tattoos, you can see burn scars there too beneath the dark ink. They aren’t as bad as Keigo said they’d be, but they’re not exactly unnoticeable either. 

But when he spoke, all of that went out the window. Keigo had sat him down across from you and Rumi, grinning. “Ladies, meet my friend, Dabi,” he said. “D, this is Rumi and Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you had politely said, sticking your hand out for him to shake. His crystal blue eyes, so intense yet mysteriously guarded, flitted up to meet yours. He stuck his hand out and took yours, causing your heart to jump at how warm and calloused his palm was. “You too,” he murmured. 

Lord, if you could have sex with a voice, it’d be his. Though it was raspy like he chain-smoked, it was also deep and traveled from your heart right down to your clit which jumped in your panties beneath your skirt. You had to cross your legs to avoid the feeling as Rumi and Keigo began to chat. Dabi would chime in here and there, but mostly just sipped his drink and looked around the club like a bored and lost puppy. 

He was fine as hell and kind of unintentionally funny, but that wasn’t what hooked you. It was two weeks before you moved into your new apartment when he randomly hit you up while you were organizing boxes for move-in day. You were sweaty and out of breath so when you answered the phone, you sounded less than happy. “Yes?” you snapped. 

“Uh…this a bad time?” Dabi had asked, his gravelly yet smooth-like-chocolate voice in your ear. Your eyes widened and your heart jumped into your throat. “Uh, no!” you immediately replied. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. The ID came up as a possible scam.” 

“That’s my fault,” Dabi said, actually sounding apologetic. “I never gave you my number. Listen, I didn’t wanna take up your time. I just wanted to ask if you needed help movin’ in.” 

“Huh?” you dumbly asked, your brain short-circuiting. “To where?” 

“....Your new apartment?” he said, just as confused as you. “You’re movin’ in this week, right?” 

A record scratched in your mind and you physically facepalmed yourself. ‘You dumb bitch!’ you thought. “Oh, yeah!” you backpedaled. “Sorry, I’ve been moving boxes since this morning.” 

“Well, lemme come up and I’ll help you,” Dabi replied. You blinked at his offer, shocked at how easily he volunteered. “No, it’s fine!” you said. “It’s just little stuff anyway! You don’t have to–” 

“I’ll be up in ten,” he interjected. “I’ve got nothin’ better to do anyhow. Stay there.” Then he hung up, leaving you open-mouthed and horrified at your appearance. Luckily, when he came over, you had dried off your sweat and fixed your hair so you didn’t look a total hot mess. 

Though you worked in silence most of the day, Dabi made sure to ask you what to put where and heaved heavier boxes for you, his muscles flexing as he did. When his job was done, he even offered to help you move your furniture around once you got it. Weeks later, he did so, helping Keigo lug your couch up the stairs and put together a table. 

He did it all in his free time without asking for a dollar. You knew from Keigo how he didn’t like going out much, so to see him do so for you did something to you. Since then, you’ve always had a slight thing for Dabi. You call it a “thing” because you’re not sure what it is. Even when you were dating your ex, he’d always be at the back of your mind and in your wettest dreams. Since he lives in the same apartment complex as you, you made it a point to say hi to him whenever you could after moving in. But the thing is you barely saw him. He lived on a whole other floor and had an entirely different schedule than you which made being nice a lot harder. That’s why you were hoping he’d come tonight: so you could get to know him more. 

“How he and Keigo are friends, I’ll never understand,” Nemuri scoffs. They’re complete opposites!” Rumi smirks up at her as she squeezes a hand on her girlfriend’s ass. “I guess opposites attract,” she teasingly says, pulling a giggling Nemuri close to her. 

You pretend to retch. “Ugh, can you two please stop?” you whine. “I don’t need to be reminded that I don’t have a fairytale romance or that I haven’t had sex in two months.” 

“Two months?!” Rumi and Nemuri exclaim in unison. You flush, adverting your eyes as you sip your drink. “That’s what I’m saying!” Rumi exasperatedly says. “You’re stressin’ over a guy as weird as Dabi when you should be out and about gettin’ your flirt on. With a body like yours, you’d find someone to keep you company tonight in no time. Someone better than that dickhead you left.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you begin to see your ex’s stupid face behind your eyelids. “Don’t remind me of him, Rumi.” 

It’s been three months since you moved out of your shared apartment with your ex and officially broke it off with him after catching him with another girl. After being together for a year and knowing in your heart that this was the man you were destined to be with, you threw caution to the wind and went half on an apartment with him in a nice part of Musutafu. 

The first five months were good, but then you started noticing how lazy he was. He barely cleaned, couldn’t cook, and argued about running errands when you asked him, even if it was just a grocery run. “You know I’m not good with groceries, babe,” he’d whine. “I always get the wrong shit and you yell at me about it!” 

What irked you most about him is that he never tried. Not with anything! Not with the cleaning, the cooking, or the sex. That was another thing you started noticing about him: the sex was boring. It used to be amazing between you two, but after moving in together, it started seriously lacking. Though you cut him some slack because of his busy work schedule and long hours, the same old position (that being doggy style) can get tiresome. 

But though you tried to spice things up with new lingerie, toys, or new kinks to enjoy, he never seemed to want to participate or be interested in them. Those nights of nothing leading into mornings where he left early for work and left you alone were devastating. You started suspecting something was up the third year of your relationship, but you never ever suspecting cheating. 

However, fate forced those rose-colored glasses off of you when you stepped into your apartment one afternoon after a yoga class with Rumi and found your boyfriend getting head from a woman you’ve never seen before. You were devastated, to say the least. Your first instinct was to leave and you found yourself crying to Rumi, Nemuri, and Keigo that night over wine. 

“I’m gonna fuck him up,” Keigo had growled, and you had to stop him from getting in his car to do so. “You’re telling me he cheated on you?” he asked incredulously. “You? He’s as dumb as he is a bitch.” 

“You can stay here as long as you want, babe,” Rumi cooed, stroking your hair away from your tear-soaked face. “Nemuri and I would be happy to have you…as long as you’re okay with the thin walls.” 

And you were (or at least you told yourself you were every time you’d hear Nemuri scream Rumi’s name to the heavens) because you did stay. After Keigo and Rumi helped you get your shit and tell off your boyfriend, you moved out of your shared apartment and bunked with Rumi and Nemuri while you saved up for a new home. 

Your ex called and texted you constantly throughout that time, begging you to come back and that he was sorry, but after you ignored each one, he stopped. It took a while to get over him. Even now, you still feel a lump in your throat over what happened–the lies; the betrayal; the utter disrespect to you and your home. But after a while, you managed to push through and finally began home hunting. 

Rumi stares at you now, pissed that you’re being so stubborn but also looking empathetic towards you. You don’t like either. “Fine, do what you want,” she sighs, “but I still say to get out of your funk and stop worryin’ about Dabi showin’ up. If he does, he does. If he doesn’t, it’s his loss and he needs to get his shit together.” 

You try to ignore her words by gulping down the rest of your drink. When it’s gone, your body craves more to replace your feelings of pure shittiness. “I’m gonna go get another tequila sunrise,” you mutter to Rumi and Nemuri. “Watch my spot.” 

You hurry away from your hands, not wanting to see their faces as you make a beeline for the kitchen. You plaster on a smile as you catch the eyes of your guests, wanting to assure them that everything is fine and you don’t feel like you just wallowed in a load of shit in your pretty yellow mini dress.

You finally make it to your kitchen, away from the music blasting from your portable speaker in your living room and the constant chatter. The snack table and counters still have snacks, plastic cups, and jello shots on them along with bottles of alcohol and soul food that you had catered from your favorite restaurant. 

You immediately for the fridge where a pitcher of pre-made tequila sunrise mix sits next to some sangria (which is all gone). ‘Damn drunkies,’ you think as you go to fill up your glass. Nemuri appears behind you, obviously following you from the couch. She silently watches you pour your drink before she decides to say something. “Don’t worry about Rumi, hon,” she comfortingly says. “You know how she is: she’s blunt, but she’s only that way because she loves you.” 

You lower the pitcher once your glass is full and place it back in the fridge. You don’t close the fridge though. The cool air feels good on your clammy skin. “I know,” you sigh, “but I don’t need to be reminded about how my recent relationship crashed and burned. Not to mention be lectured about Dabi. I’m not a kid.” 

“So you are worried he won’t come?” Nemuri asks curiously. 

“No!” you immediately protest, then pivot, fumbling with the straw in your drink. “I-I mean, not really. He just said he’d show up, so…I guess I was just hopin’ he’d stop by and congratulate me for the apartment since he helped me move in.” 

You had invited him, after all. This was last week on a very warm Saturday morning when the summer heat was starting to rise. It was laundry day and you were forced to lug a pillow sack of dirty clothes in an elevator, sweating in your biker shorts and Spongebob tee. You were prepared for no one to see you that morning, but fate had other plans when the elevator stopped on one of the lower apartment floors. You were headed for the basement where the laundry mat is. 

The doors opened, revealing the last person you wanted to see that morning. “O-Oh!” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his sudden appearance. And the fact that he looked so goddamn hot. Dabi stood at the elevator doors in his usual black attire, except he had on sweats instead of joggers. You had to force yourself not to stare at his crotch. “Hey, Dabi,” you greeted him, giving him a smile. 

Dabi only gave you a nod as he stepped inside the elevator. You didn’t take it negatively. That was just Dabi–he never said much. He pressed the button to the lobby before the doors closed, leaving you together in the small elevator cart. You could feel the four walls of the elevator closing in with him standing so near, especially when his scent was invading your senses. It was spicy yet sweet like cinnamon with a hint of cologne. It was turning you on badly. 

Dabi suddenly tilted his chin at the pillow sack. “What’s with the sack?” he muttered. “You got kids to deliver to or somethin’?” 

You quirked a smirk at his attempt at a joke. “Funny,” you chuckled. He smirked back, shrugging passively. “I try.” Just like that, the tension faded. “Just laundry,” you sighed. “About two weeks’ worth. I’ve been puttin’ it off since I’ve been still setting up my apartment.” 

He nodded and you both fell into silence again that swelled around you. “Sooo where are you off to so early?” you asked, desperate to fill the horrible silence. “Just the station,” he replied blandly. “Why they decided to have a meeting at the ass-crack of dawn is beyond me.” You nodded and giggled to yourself, only imagining the shit he had to put up with as a firefighter. Dabi has been working for the Musutafu fire department for three years now, commuting from the apartment to work every morning. 

You smile at him gratefully. “Thanks a lot for helpin’ me with the move-in process. It made things so much easier.” He once again shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s whatever,” he mumbled. “And no, I don’t want your money, before you say anything. You need it more than I do.” 

“Ugh, you ain’t lyin’,” you groaned tiredly, your mind jumping from place to place. “I thought doing all the cleaning would be a lot, but I’m still gettin’ used to handlin’ the bills myself plus rent and groceries and…” You buttoned your lip and flushed embarrassingly, realizing you’d been talking for too long. “Sorry,” you giggled, embarrassed. “I’m rambling. Not a good way to start your morning. Just tell me to shut up.” 

Dabi shrugged, not looking perturbed by it. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for. Your ex was a dick, end of story. Plus, hearin’ you complain about him isn’t the worst thing I’ve heard in the morning.” He looked at you, looking deadass. “Try gettin’ an earful of that blonde bitch singin’ in the shower when he’s not laid up with somebody.” 

You laughed then, glad you didn’t have Keigo as a roommate. “How are your ears not bleeding?” you giggled. Dabi smiled at the sound of your laugh–a real, genuine smile that made him even more handsome to you. The moment quickly ended though when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the lobby. “This is me,” Dabi muttered, his smile disappearing. 

He began to head out, not even giving you a goodbye or a “have a nice day” or a “you look fine as fuck in those shorts, lemme get your number”. Nothing! Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing this may be your one chance to interact with him for more than five seconds. 

Quickly, you jammed the button to hold the doors open. “H-Hey!” you abruptly called out. Dabi stopped and looked over his shoulder at you. “I meant to tell you: I’m havin’ this apartment warming party next Saturday night. It’s like a housewarming, but it’s for my apartment and uh…” 

‘You’re rambling! Just get to the point, bitch!’ 

“If you wanna come, you’re welcome to,” you continued. “Keigo is coming, so I figured I’d extend the invite.” Dabi had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at you as if trying to make sense of you. “So…other people are gonna be there?” he carefully asks. 

You blinked at him. What a weird fucking question. “Well, yeah, but just some of my coworkers and people Rumi and I know. It’s just a small thing, nothing too big. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but there’s gonna be food, music, a little bit of weed…” You trailed off, hoping the weed would get him since he’s a smoker. 

Dabi shoves a hand into his pocket and leans back on his haunches. “I don’t really go to parties too much,” he admitted. “Not that I hate ‘em, but I’m not really a people person.” That definitely meant he wasn’t coming. “Oh,” you exhaled, disappointment blooming inside of you. “I get you. I just figured I’d–” 

“I mean, I’ll still stop by or whatever,” he interjected with a shrug. “Don’t I gotta bring a gift or somethin’?” You tried to stomp down the happiness flooding your chest, but you couldn’t help it. “If you want!” you chirped happily. “I like plants…wine…gift cards…Beyoncè tickets…just some ideas.” 

Dabi smirked humorously at your little witty joke. “Not sure about that other part, but I’ll see what I can do.” Then, without another word, he turned to leave. “I’ll see you later then!” you called after him to which he gave you a slight wave. Finally, you let the doors close on you, and though his goodbye was anti-climatic, you couldn’t get rid of your smile. 

Now here you are, two hours into the party, and he still isn’t here yet. Keigo isn’t either but he at least said he was coming straight from work as a bartender. “Don’t be upset if he doesn’t, Y/N,” Nemuri coos, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t heard of Dabi ever going against his word, he’s very…different.” 

‘Tell me about it,’ you think.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Nemuri continues, “but he’s not as much of a social butterfly as Keigo is, especially because of his accident. He might be afraid he’ll make people feel uncomfortable.” 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, you freeze, your brain processing the meaning behind them. Dabi never talked about his accident, especially to you, but according to Keigo, he got those burn scars not from a firefighting mission gone wrong. He got them when he was a child after playing with matches one Christmas night and setting his home on fire. Supposedly, this was because he was angry that his father aka that redheaded bitch Enji Todoroki didn’t buy him, his siblings, or his wife any Christmas gifts. 

Little Dabi found the matches sitting up on the mantel above the fireplace and ultimately set a spark that engulfed their home. Dabi was never the same after that, especially after nearly dying from the flames. Luckily, he didn’t die from his severe burns, but they left the left side of his face and body with burn scars–reminders of what happened. “He blames himself a lot for that night,” Keigo said to you when he recounted the story. “Especially since his family lost so much stuff. To him, he feels responsible for the fact that his family could’ve died in that fire.” 

Though he has a great relationship with his family besides Enji, he’s always carried around the weight of that trauma. Literally speaking too, because of those burns on his body. He can never ever get rid of them. He’s forced to wear them and be scrutinized by the world because of his disfigurement. 

As soon as Nemuri’s words process, you feel sick to your stomach. “I never thought of it that way,” you confess, feeling horribly guilty. “Fuck, now I feel like a bitch! Here I am upset over him not comin’ to my party when he owes me nothing, and yet–” 

“Hey.” Like a light in the darkness, Nemuri emerges in front of you and firmly holds your shoulders. “Stop. You’ll ruin your makeup sweatin’ over this.” She then hands you a napkin and you begin to bloat your Fenty Beauty foundation, hoping your makeup didn’t slide.

“Just take a breath, get yourself another drink, and have some fun!” she encourages. “While I wouldn’t have said it as brazenly as Rumi did, I agree that you need a night to forget about your ex and meet somebody you can spend the night with so you can forget about your ex. Here, I’ll even help you! I’m great at matchmaking.” 

You quirk a smile at her volunteering to help you get laid. “Thanks, Nemuri, but I think I’ll pass on scouting for dick tonight. I don’t feel like hooking up.”

And you don’t. All you want to do is drink, dance, and celebrate your first big girl apartment. “But I do feel like having fun,” you say aloud before taking a jello shot and throwing it back. The taste of vodka and artificial orange immediately hits your tongue, just as your favorite Beyoncè song blasts from the living room. 

“Oh, this is my song!” you squeal, already moving your body to the beat. Nemuri moves with you, happy to see you happy. “That’s the spirit!” she cheers. You two dance in the kitchen for a while until the doorbell rings. “Looks like more people came to congratulate you,” Nemuri giggles, squeezing your hand. “Go get it quick before the song ends.” 

You nod and take your drink with you as you hurry out of the kitchen to your door. You already feel better after the quick dance session and some more alcohol. You feel like you could take on anything now. You swing open the door with enthusiasm, happy to have more guests. “Welcome to my…” you begin to shout, grinning at your guests standing at your door. 

But that smile fades when you get a look at not only Keigo but Dabi standing behind him, each with a bag in their hand. As soon as Dabi’s cobalt eyes meet yours, you’re a puddle. “Home,” you weakly finish. 

“Wow, what a welcome,” Keigo chuckles. “Thanks for havin’ us, babe. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He leans in to give you a one-armed hug before releasing you. “Hope you don’t mind I bought the enigma along for the ride.” 

He nods at Dabi who looks oh-so uncomfortable and delicious in his black tee and jeans. His icy blue eyes flick to yours before looking away to somewhere beyond your face. “N-Not at all,” you reply softly. 

“And us too!” a familiar voice comes from behind Dabi. The voice belongs to his equally as fine brother, Natsuo Todoroki. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He grins at you, running a hand through his snow-white hair.

Another familiar face appears from around the corner though it is hidden behind shaggy, black hair that reaches his shoulders. Tenko, aka Shiggy, with his tattoos and gages. “That’s ‘cause you're deep in those nursing books,” he tells Natsuo before turning to you, dark circles under his eyes. “You got smokes in here, right? I’ve been tattooing people all day and I need a reliever.” 

“Yes, and come in,” you giggle, opening the door wider for your four muscular, tall, and fine-ass guests. They each walk in and you close the door behind them. As soon as they’re inside, Shiggy makes a beeline for the weed, leaving you, Dabi, Keigo, and Natsuo standing there. 

“Woooow, kid,” Keigo whistles. “Cute place you got here. I knew it was a good idea to put the TV over there.” He nods proudly at the TV in the living room. “So this is your very first place. I really can’t call you “kid” no more, can I?” He actually sounds upset about it. 

“Yep,” you laugh. “My first home, first real purchase. I feel like a big girl for real now.” 

“You should!” Natsuo chuckles, a smile growing on his handsome face. “Especially without that emotional vampire suckin’ the life outta you. Oh, before I forget…” He nudges Keigo who presents you with a paper bag “Housewarming gift number one,” the second oldest Todoroki kid says with a grin. “Dabi has the other. C’mon and give her the gift, D!” 

Dabi glares at his brother, but pulls a little bag from behind his back. You look into both, finding a bottle of wine, a bottle opener, and some cute, multi-colored wine glasses in them. “Thank you,” you giggle. “I’ll drink it all tonight.” 

“So where’s the food and the pretty people?” Keigo asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. You already knew the man would be getting his freak on tonight. “All in the living room. Rumi and Nemuri are somewhere around here if you want me to–” 

“Nah, kid, don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Keigo interjects, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll definitely find them. You stay here and tend to your new guest…he’s gonna need it.” He nods at Dabi before giving you a wink. “C’mon, Natsuo!” he hollers, taking the white-haired man by the shoulder. 

Natsuo gives you an apologetic look as he’s dragged off. “Take care of him, please?” he softly pleads before heading off with Keigo to stop him from harassing people. You turn to Dabi who looks ready to strangle them both. “Fuckin’ bitches,” he growls under his breath. 

Standing among the music and the chatter, you realize that now you two are alone. Well, not completely, but enough that it feels awkward without someone starting the conversation. Nervously, you swallow, realizing you’ll have to throw in the towel. “I-I didn’t think you’d come,” you shakily begin. “You said you weren’t a people person.” 

“I’m not,” Dabi gruffly declares, “but I did owe you a gift.” Your heart leaps at his words despite his tone. “You really didn’t, but thanks anyway.” 

He nods once more his eyes flick up and down your form quickly. When you catch it, your entire body grows hot. Does he think you look good? If he does, will he say it? It doesn’t appear he’ll say anything at all. You clear your throat once more, attempting to break the ice that is quickly hardening. “Uh…so you want a drink or a tour of the place? I’d feel bad if you were just standin’ here.” 

“What’s wrong with just standin’?” he deadpans, but you can tell it’s a joke. “Everything, unless you’re a plant,” you tease. You earn a little smirk out of him, but that’s about all you get. So you start to ramble. “The drinks are really good. Keigo knows the bartender, so–” 

“What?” he cuts in, straining to hear you. You lean in toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get closer to him. “I said Keigo knows the bartender I hired for the party!” you exclaim into his ear. “I also catered soul food if you want to–” 

You’re rudely cut off when someone bumps into you. She’s one of your coworkers from the HR department, but because she’s so drunk, she barely recognizes you. “Sorry!” she hiccups. “Bathroom!” Quickly, she runs upstairs to your bathroom, holding her stomach as she does. You turn to Dabi who looks even more uncomfortable now. You keep your hand on his shoulder, wanting him to know you’re here for him. He doesn’t move your hand away. “I’m startin’ to think maybe you’re right about the standin’ thing,” he mumbles. “You got anywhere more private?” 

It takes a moment for his words to process, but when they do, you swear you could touch the moon. He’s really here for you. To talk to you. And you know exactly where to go for it. “I know a perfect place,” you giggle excitedly. “Get yourself a drink and I’ll get some smoke. Meet me back here in five minutes.” 

Dabi looks relieved that you agreed. Quickly, he moves to the kitchen to get himself a drink, earning some eyefucks in the process, regardless of his burns. Still holding your gifts, you make a beeline to the smoke section and force Shiggy to cough up the rest of the starburst-flavored papers (to which he whines about) and a little baggie of weed. 

The crew is sitting on the couch vibing to the music when you come over. Keigo and Natsuo are in awe at Dabi being up and about, pouring himself a drink. “So I see you got him to move!” Natsuo laughs. “It’s a miracle!” Rumi, currently holding Nemuri in her lap as she chats with someone next to her, gives you a smirk. “Where are you off to?” she asks suspiciously. 

You smile back at her, unable to hide your giddiness. “To show my guest around. Hold down the fort for a minute.” 

“Maybe more than a minute,” Keigo snickers knowingly. Rumi nudges him with her elbow as you flush to yourself. “You’ve got it, captain. Go enjoy yourself and your man.” You turn away, skin still on fire. “He’s not my man!” you call over your shoulder as you hurry to gather something to loosen you both up. “Yet,” you whisper to yourself. 

Dabi meets you back at your door like you ask him to with a red solo cup that smells of whiskey and apple in his hand. You motion for him to follow you out the door of your apartment and down the hallway. “It’s right up here,” you explain, pointing up the emergency staircase in case of a fire.

Dabi raises a quizzical eyebrow but follows you up the short flight of steps anyway. When at the top, you push open the door at the end of the staircase, revealing the rooftop to your apartment building. The roof is decorated with comfortable sofas, mini tables, and fair lights that hang among the rafters. The edges of the rooftop are blocked off by clear, plaster walls that serve as barriers between the inside and the outside. 

You shut the door behind you and turn to Dabi. “You know about this place?” you softly ask. 

He stares around the prettily-decorated rooftop, lips parted in awe. “Not at all,” he admits, bewildered. “I’ve been livin’ here longer than you and knew nothin’ about it, but then again, I barely come out of my apartment.” 

“I’m a sucker for rooftops,” you confess. “That’s what drew me to this complex.” You walk over to him, staring out at the view before you: glittering city lights and the sunset that isn’t anything but a line of fuschia that dips beneath the mountains far off into the distance. It truly is a beautiful sight. 

You suddenly feel warm as if someone’s eyes are on you and turn to see Dabi unabashedly staring at you. 

“Goddamn, you are short,” he snickers. 

You smack his arm, flushing. It’s not your fault you were cursed with short genes. “Hey!” you gasp, mock-offended. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’ll find yourself goin’ over this rooftop. Just for that, you’re rollin’ the blunt for us.” You plop down on one of the couches and pat the empty seat next to you twice, motioning him to sit next to you. 

Dabi looks hesitant at first but sits down next to you anyway. He still appears tall even though he’s sitting. 

“You sure your crib is gonna be okay?” he asks as he begins to set up shop. You wave off his concern, trusting your guests. “Rumi and Keigo won’t let anything happen to it. Especially Rumi; she scares people.” 

He smirks at your answer as he begins preparing a blunt for you, taking out a grinder and the little baggie of weed. You prepare the wine and glasses, pouring yourself one and leaving another empty for Dabi just in case. Once finished, you sit in silence and watch him work, sipping your wine as you do. You watch him intensely, your eyes hypnotized by his fingers expertly sprinkling the marijuana into the paper and then working on rolling the blunt to absolute perfection. 

He’s so good with his hands. 

Your eyes trail up his hands to his wrists to his arms, admiring the muscle beneath the dark ink on his skin. One tattoo, in particular, catches your attention: the number 58 with a green dragon slithering out of the eight. “Nice tatt.” 

“It’s my firefighter number,” he explains, eyes still trained on his hands. “The dragon is the symbol for the department. I designed and inked it myself.” You don’t notice that you’ve gotten closer to him, your legs aimed directly toward him. Your body is completely under his silent spell. “You do your own tattoos?” you ask, wanting to know more, anything more, about him. 

He nods, jetting his tongue out to lick the paper. It is pink with a glint of something in it. You realize that it’s a tongue piercing and your clit jumps. “Shiggy taught me when we were teens.” He suddenly stops rolling the blunt and points at a few words linked across his right collarbone. “This one is the first tatt I gave myself when I was sixteen. It’s Latin for ‘don’t let the past steal your present’.” 

He then begins to recite the words in Latin, his rolling tongue making the inside of your thighs feel warm. “I didn’t know you spoke Latin.” His eyes flicker over to yours, a softness to them. “There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” he murmurs, his tone low and sugary sweet to you. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the privacy, or him, but it allows you to be even bolder. You scoot next to him even farther, turning your body so that your hip presses against his. He doesn’t move away, but you do feel him tense. “Hopefully, there are some you’d be willing to share,” you softly reply, hoping he’ll read between the lines and see how much you want this. 

Alas, he doesn’t say anything, but you do notice that his knee begins touching yours. You don’t know if it’s accidental or intentional, but it has you feeling warm and tingly regardless. When he finally finishes the blunt, he lights the end of it and takes a smoke test before passing it to you. You take it gingerly between your forefinger and thumb and take a much-needed puff. 

The smoke fills your lungs instantly and you exhale peacefully, watching the wisps of smoke disappear into the starry night sky. “Nothin’ like a blunt to ease the nerves,” you sigh contently, already feeling more relaxed. 

“Are you nervous?” Dabi asks, actually sounding surprised by it. His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, right behind your head. “Around me?” You flush, passing the blunt back to him. “Well, kinda,” you laugh awkwardly. “You’re just so…” You grow quiet, trying to find the appropriate word. 

He takes a puff of the blunt. “Weird?” he finishes, quirking a brow at you as smoke billows from his mouth. He passes the blunt back to you. “I was gonna say ‘quiet’,” you reply. “I don’t think you’re weird.” 

Dabi shrugs, looking out into the city lights. “I just don’t have much to say, but you ain’t the only one who’s nervous. Like I said, I’m not much of a social butterfly; not even at work. That’s Keigo and my brother. They dragged me out here tonight.” His eyes, like twin pools of the bluest water in the farthest Carribean island, flick to yours. “But to be honest, I would’ve come anyway.” 

You suddenly forget you’re holding the blunt and quickly place it down on the ashtray on the mini table. “You would?” you ask, hating how breathless you sound. He shrugs like it should be obvious. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want that gift card goin’ to just anybody.” 

You scowl confusedly at him to which he smirks humorously. “Look at the bottom of the bag I gave you.” Slowly, you do so, and sure enough, you see a silver $150 Visa gift card glinting at the bottom of the bag. You take it out, staring at it. Dabi looks sheepish, planting his hand firmly in his lap as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It ain’t much and it definitely ain’t a Beyoncé ticket, but I hope you like it.” 

Suddenly, the alcohol, the weed, and the scent of him begin to work their magic on you. All of your inhibitions and all logic are gone as you stare at his gorgeous, scarred face. “I love it,” you whisper, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Dabi’s cheek. You feel his soft skin and the slight prickle of stubble there before pulling away. 

He stares at you, shocked, and you stare right back as reality sets in. ‘Oh, no…what the fuck did I do?’ 

“Y/N,” he says, your voice like a prayer on his lips. But before he can finish his thought, your phone rudely interrupts him. “Fuck,” you hiss. “I’m so sorry.” You scramble to pick it up and find your ex’s name flashing across the screen. “Dammit!” you snap. 

“Who is it?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. You show him, groaning with dread. “It’s my ex. I thought he stopped callin’ me, but apparently not.” 

“He’s been callin’ you?” he asks, a bitter tone to his voice. He does not sound happy about this. You slowly nod to which he demands, “Put him on speaker.” You stare at him, wondering if he’s deadass, but he’s not looking like he’s bs-ing you about this. Despite your better judgment and confusion, you do as he says and put the call on speaker before answering your ex with a curt, “What do you want?” 

“Heeey, that’s no way to talk to your man,” your ex slurs into the phone. “What’s up with you?” You scowl in disgust at his tone. “What’s up with you?” you shoot back. “Are you drunk?” He snorts in response meaning he’s definitely drunk. “Not nearly enough. Just was thinkin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone in that big, empty apartment…but then I happened across your IG and saw your stories.” 

“Yeah, and?” you ask cooly. 

“You’re throwin’ a party at the expense of us?” he snaps at the flip of a switch. “You want everyone to know what happened to us?” You roll your eyes. Everything is always about him. “Only my friends know what happened because they’re my friends. And even if I tell people, it’s none of your business and you fuckin’ deserve it for cheating, lying dick.” 

He pauses, letting your insult process, but the longer he’s quiet the more tired you grow. “Is this what you called me for?” you demand. “To argue? ‘Cause I’m not in the mood.” He makes a sound over the phone between a sigh and a groan, sounding exhausted. “Can’t we just talk about this?” he asks. “I just don’t get why you had to leave. We had three years!” 

You scoff to yourself. The sheer audacity of this guy! Those are three years he decided to ruin; not you! 

“Can’t we just talk it out, Y/N?” he asks again, sounding absolutely broken.

Now it’s Dabi’s turn to respond. “There ain’t nothing to talk about,” he malevolently replies. “She already made it clear that she’s not interested in whatever you want.” 

Your ex is quiet for a moment, taken aback by the new voice. “Who the fuck are you?” he spits. “Y/N, who is that?” Your brain short circuits trying to find a legitimate answer. 

“Her new man,” Dabi growls, “and if I ever see you callin’ her again, I’m pullin’ up to make you see God early. You’re lucky I didn’t do that when I found out you stuck your dick inside someone else who wasn’t the woman you had. What are you, stupid?” You and your ex are silent, astounded by his words. 

“And if you even think about comin’ over here yourself, don’t,” Dabi continues. “Take that as my act of kindness to you even though you sure as hell don’t deserve it.” Your ex is enraged, cussing, and slurring into the speaker. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snaps. “You think you can just–” 

“Don’t call here again, whore,” Dabi growls before he gives you a slight nod and you end the call. 

As soon as the call ends, you set your phone down and voice the one question that is burning you alive: “Did you mean what you said?” you ask carefully. “That you’re my new man?” 

Before Dabi can even begin to explain himself, you softly, shyly, tell him, “Because I wouldn’t reject that offer.” 

Dabi gapes at you, obviously not believing your words. Then a hardened expression sets on his handsome face. “You’re not serious,” he scoffs with laughter. “You’re not.” You scowl at him, disappointed. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You don’t think I want this?” 

“No, I don’t,” he replies sternly, suddenly standing up. You can see that wall that you’ve been all night trying to destroy building back up. “I think you think I’m a weird ass, introverted loser that you wanna take a ride on because it’ll be fun for the first few weeks while you’re gettin’ over your breakup.” He shakes his head, laughing to himself. “You could never want me.” 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Why would you think that?” you softly ask, hurt for him now more than yourself. Dabi chuckles dryly. “C’mon now, Y/N,” he scoffs. “Someone who looks like you with someone who looks like me?” He points to the scars on his face. “I’m not the man you think I am.” 

“I don’t think of you as anything, Dabi,” you passionately say, standing up now too. “I invited you here because I want to get to know you more. I always have, even when I was with my ex.” He turns to stare at you, shocked at your words. There it is: the truth, laid out in the open with only the stars as witnesses to it. 

You move closer to him, gently taking his wrist into your hand. His body feels tense in your grasp. “Your scars mean nothing to me; they never did. Would you believe me if I said I’ve always liked you too?” 

You take your other hand and place it on his chest, right above his heart which is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Now that I know you’ve felt the same way, nothing is holding me back anymore.” 

You then stand up on your tiptoes and again press a kiss to his jawline, right on a burn scar there. “I can handle this, Dabi,” you murmur against his ear. “I like it rough.” That is all you needed to say to get Dabi to finally unravel. 

You can only let out a tiny gasp before he grabs you by the back of the neck and presses his lips against yours. His kiss isn’t soft or careful. His kiss his rough; hungry; slow as he draws moans and gasps out of you. He kisses you like he’s been dreaming of doing so for ages, and you have no doubt that he has. His lips are soft, the taste of whiskey, apple, and mint on his tongue. You let his hands move along your back and ass, squeezing the flesh there and making you moan. 

Taking advantage of your open mouth, he slides his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside of your mouth. He moans hungrily as your tongue begins to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath. The act makes your pussy clench impatiently in your panties, wanting to be touched and petted. By him. Dabi then pulls away enough to speak to you, his eyes hooded and dark. 

“How long have you felt his way about me?” he murmurs hotly against your lips. “Tell me.” 

His hand sneaks down underneath your dress to squeeze your ass. You let him, biting back a whimper in the process. You barely know him and yet you’re letting him touch you like this right in the open. “S-Since you helped me move,” you softly stutter. “But I’ve always been attracted to you since we met.” 

He begins to kiss you all over now: your neck; your jawline; your collarbone; your naked shoulders in your spaghetti straps. “Fuck,” he growls against your skin. “You’re too good to be fuckin’ true.” His hands roam up and down your hips and sides, squeezing and fondling. “I’ve been wantin’ your fine ass since we met.” 

“How come you never…?” The rest of your question doesn’t reach your lips as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you toward him, so close that air can’t even move between you. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, so close that you can feel a bulge in his jeans that can only be his hardening dick. He’s turned on by you. The fact makes you delirious. 

His lips press against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth becomes raw from it. He begins to walk backward to the couch, never breaking the kiss, and plops down onto the cushion. He then grips you by the hips and coaxes you on top of his lap where you begin to straddle him. His hands, so rough yet so warm, continue to fondle your thighs and ass, squeezing at the flesh there and making you whimper into his mouth. Instinctively, you grind down into his hardening dick, enlisting a moan from deep within his throat. It travels right down to your pussy. 

Suddenly, he pulls away with a soft gasp. His eyes are lust-blown, his lips pinker than usual. “Hang on…I wanna try something.” With one arm wrapped securely around your waist, he moves to pluck the blunt from the ashtray. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks. You blink dumbly at him, confused, and shake your head. “It’s easy. Lemme show you.” 

You watch with utter lust as he takes a long drag of the blunt, his eyes pinned on yours. Then, with one hand, he squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to form your mouth into an O shape. He leans in close as if he is about to kiss you again and, slowly, billows of marijuana smoke shoot out of his mouth and into yours. You’re trembling with need and anticipation as the smoke fills your senses along with the sight of Dabi’s crystal blue eyes staring you down. “Nice, right?” he chuckles. “Now try it with me.” 

You’re eager to try this new addictive activity as well as please him, so you pucker your lips and puff on the blunt that Dabi holds out for you. Then, after inhaling a good portion of smoke, you slowly blow it out into Dabi’s waiting lips. But you don’t stop there. You lean in toward him and devour his mouth, desperate to have him. At some point, he puts the blunt back down but you don’t notice. You’re too drunk and high off of him. You pull away, leaving him dazed. “I want you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him.  

“Bedroom?” he asks, a suggestive glint in his eye. “And before you ask, no, I don’t think you’re easy or that I’m a rebound. We already established that we’re two idiots who’ve been pinin’ after each other for months now.” 

His words make you smile. Though you weren’t at all thinking about if he saw you as “easy” or if he was just a lay to get over your ex, it’s so nice to hear that all he wants is you. This only makes your need for him grow until it reaches an almost painful point. Your throbbing clit is a testimate to that. 

“No bedroom,” you say, giving him an excited, sexy smile. “I want you out here.” Dabi raises a brow, not expecting your request. “Please, Dabi,” you plead. “I-I don’t think I can wait.” To show him that you’re serious, you begin to take down the spaghetti straps to your dress to reveal your bra. You don’t care if anyone sees. You just want him so badly. 

The shock in his blue eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he gets a look at those perfect tits in the pretty little bra you have on. “You little freak,” he chuckles. “Well, at least lemme get a feel of you if you want me that badly. Hop off me.” You listen to him and settle down next to him as he gets up to inspect you. 

You bite your lip and watch him as he kneels down in front of you and opens your legs. When he gets a look at your soaked little panties, he almost looks pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hisses. “You’re so wet for me. You don’t even need these little panties anymore.” His eyes flick up to yours and his hands still at your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes ask. 

Wordlessly, you nod, unable to speak. But he isn’t down for that. He begins to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit above your panties, paying close attention to your reactions. “Words, baby,” he growls. “Gimme words.” 

“Yes!” you moan, your toes curling in your heels at the feeling of his fingers brushing your wet cunt. “Please, Dabi…please touch me.” He gives you a wolfish grin at your pitiful reaction, but doesn’t keep you waiting. He loops his fingers through the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs you reveal your naked, sobbing wet pussy. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, babe.” 

“Thank y–!” Your words are cut off by a sudden gasp as Dabi leans in and begins suckling on your clit and eating your pussy like a starving man. He is relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit. He moves his tongue like he’s a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reaction every time he does something new. 

You’re loving it. You writhe and grind your hips against his mouth, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushes around his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that writes shapes and nonsense words across your wet lips and needy little clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Does doin’ this shit out in the open turn you on that much, mama?” 

You moan in response to him, unable to form words, especially when he reaches one hand up to pay with your breast. You help him bring down the bra cup to expose your breast, hissing in pleasure as he begins gently pinching the hardened brown nipple. This is insane. You barely know this man and not only are you letting him do this to you, it’s all in public. Anyone could walk up the staircase and see you, or look across or up from the sidewalk to find you like this. 

It’s so shameful. So nasty. And so, so good. It feels even better when Dabi begins to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy. “You want this?” he asks, his voice nothing but a low growl. You nod vigorously and he laughs. “So needy,” he teases as he begins to slowly slide his finger inside of you. “Your ex must’ve not be takin’ care of this pussy. He never made you feel like this, did he?” 

“N-No,” you gasp, eyes blown as you feel your pussy stretch slightly around his finger. He quickly begins to aim up to brush against your clit as he slides his finger in and out of you. Not only that, but he also begins to suck at your clit, sending waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through your body. This shit is crazy! He’s crazy! 

You can feel yourself quickly beginning to reach that peak to your climax. ‘No!’ you think stubbornly. You don’t want this to end. You want to make this moment last. “Wait, Dabi!” you shout, writhing against him. “Stop! Don’t make me cum!” He immediately ceases his movements and pulls away from you, glaring in confusion. “‘Scuse me?” he asks, not sounding happy with your protest. 

You nearly laugh at his reaction. “I wanna make this last,” you explain. “I wanna make you feel exactly how you must made me feel. So stand up.” Dabi still looks pissed he couldn’t make you cum, but listens to you anyway. He stands up, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you stand with him. Slowly, you begin to kiss and suck your essense off of his mouth, earning low moans from him. 

Your hands slide down to his broad chest and you grip his shirt collar. “Off please?” you ask, peering up at him through your lashes. You don’t even have to ask twice. In a flash, he’s stripping himself of his shirt and tossing it somewhere on the rooftop. 

You take a moment to admire his beautiful body–so hard and defined with muscle, ink, and burn scars that coat the left side of his body. His nipples, pink and hard, glint with two rings that hang from them and his lower stomach is sinewy with ink black hair. He’s so, so pretty. He must think your stares mean something else because he adverts his eyes from yours. “I know it ain’t picture perfect,” he mutters, sounding ashamed in himself. Your heart leaps with fear, hoping you didn’t ruin tonight for you both. Quickly, you try to fix things by gliding your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs. “You’re perfect,” you whisper before leaning in to peck his burn scars, running your lips softly over each. 

The low moans and “mmm”s Dabi lets leave his mouth are delicious to you. They only heighten your arousal along with the sound of the party still going on downstairs. The music and chatter are muffled, but the fact that it is still near is so exciting to you. You never pictured yourself one for exhibitonism, but you suppose it takes the right person to bring the freak out of you. 

And baby, do you want to be the freakiest bitch for Dabi. To prove that, you begin to lick and suck along his hardened nipples, tugging on the tiny silver rings hanging from them. “Fuck, baby,” he hums, watching you as you work. His lips are parted and his eyes are hooded. He is completely entranced by you. 

He hasn’t seen shit yet. You begin to kiss down his hardened stomach until you come to his jeans already hanging low on his hips. You stop, your hands at his fly, and look up at him. ‘Okay?’ you ask with your eyes. Slowly, he nods, giving you the green light to finally rid him of his pants. You pull them and his underwear down in one go, eager to see what’s underneath. 

You begin to think you bit off more than you can chew (or suck, rather) when you get a look at his cock for the first time. He is well endowed, thick, and curves upward so his dick slaps against his stomach when you finally release him from his trousers. Black hair curls around his stomach and pubic area, but it isn’t like a jungle. But that isn’t what gets you: it’s the cockhead piercing that glints from the head of his dick in the moonlight. 

You gape at his cock, not sure what to say or do. “You okay?” he asks, laughter in his voice at your silence. “Uh…” That’s all you can say. He’s just so, so big! How could you get him in your mouth? You’re lucky you can even fit one hand around him as you begin to stroke him softly from base to tip. 

Dabi cackles down at you, relishing your fear. “Don’t be scared of it, mama,” he purrs, taking his dick out of your hand and waving it in front of you. You watch, hypnotized…or dickmatized. “You said you wanted to make me feel the way I made you feel, right?” he asks teasingly. “C’mon now. You can do it. Open that pretty mouth.” 

Not wanting to disappoint him, you open your mouth and he slowly begins to slide his dick against your tongue. “There we go,” he coos. “Good girl…take it all in.” You try to do so, your jaw and mouth stretching to accompany his size. “I’m guessin’ I’m bigger than your mans, huh?” he chuckles lowly. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum around his cock, the vibrations causing him to moan. You relish the sounds, wanting more. So you begin to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out of your throat. You gag and spit all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy. Dabi is loving it. He tosses his head back and rolls his eyes to the back of his head, giving you a sight that is fit for only the finest of porn. He’s so, so sexy. And to be able to make him feel good gives you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continue to fuck him with your throat. 

“You’re doin’ so good, babe,” he grunts as he begins to roll his hips into your mouth. “So, so good. At this rate, you’ll make me cum.”

You nod your head, coaxing him to do so. You want him to cum. You want to taste all of him in your mouth. But he surprises you when he begins to slow down his hips and pulls his wet cock out of your mouth. “No,” he growls. “If I’m gonna cum, it either has to be on that pretty ass or those titties of yours.” 

You stare up at him then, drinking in his spectacular body and dick standing at attention for you. You then decide that if you are to finally cum, you want it to be wrapped around his cock.

‘Fuck it,’ you think. You don’t care that you barely know him. All of that “getting to know you” shit can wait until after you get him inside of you. “Why not inside of me then?” you purr, standing up to take his hands in yours. 

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. “Without a condom?” he asks. “I don’t have one on me.”

You shake your head, pecking his lips. “I’m on the pill.”

That’s all you need to say to get Dabi to smash his lips hungrily against yours. “Oh, thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. “I don’t mind beatin’ my dick to the sight of you in front of me, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want your pretty little pussy wrapped around me.” 

His dirty words send shivers up your spine. “And you’re okay with this? I mean, we barely know each other and–” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls, already moving you back to the couch again. “I’ll take you out later to get to know you, but right now, I fuckin’ need all of you. Now choose how I’m doin’ you before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

You gape at him, dumbfounded and so, so horny. You’ve never had a man be so desperate for you before. You waste no time bending over the couch, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him. You then look back at him, finding him standing there and stroking himself to the sight of you. “Like this,” you whisper. “Fuck me just like this, Dabi.” 

Dabi is going fucking feral behind you. It takes everything in him to not shove every single inch of his hard, thick cock inside of you as he moves closer to you and begins to stroke your pussy with his cock. “God, look at you, stainin’ up the couch,” he sighs as you twitch and quiver along his dick. “Anyone could look up and see you like this, about to get fucked by someone who is practically a stranger to you.” 

‘I don’t care,’ you want to scream. Anyone could watch if they want. All you want is that dick inside of you now. And then finally, he gives it to you.

He goes slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him. As soon as his cockhead enters you, your jaw is dropping open and your eyes are blown from how stretched you feel already. No toy could compare to how warm and solid Dabi feels snuggled up in your pussy. Not even your ex could make you feel this full or this good. 

Through it all, you breathe in and out, relaxing your body into the couch cushion. Though it doesn’t hurt, you’re feeling beyond stretched by Dabi and you almost collapse from the feeling. You’re so glad to have the back of the couch to grip as Dabi takes a hold of your hips and bottoms out inside of you. “F-Fuck, Dabi!” you whine, gripping the couch. You can’t believe how good you feel. Where the fuck has he been hiding all this time? 

He begins to bump his hips against your ass a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit. “Come on now, mama,” he huffs. “You wanna be a big girl, right? Take me just like one. Make me proud.” He begins to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your breasts and fondling them one at a time. 

The feeling is just too much. His dick strokes the most sensitive parts of you as your clit jumps with every slap of his balls against it. And he’s just so deep. He is making you see stars that don’t even compare to the ones coating the night sky above the beautiful view stretched before you. You have no chance to take it all in, too busy taking Dabi’s fat cock as he fucks you into oblivion in your little sundress and heels. 

“Feels good, don’t it?” he grunts into your ear. One hand moves to your ass to gently spank your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling. “Bet you’ve dreamed about this,” he growls to you. “Bet you wanted to get slutted out on my dick for so long. Bet you couldn’t wait for tonight. Bet you planned for this.”

He leans down toward you, his lips grazing your ear. “Bet you’ve wanted to be my good girl for so long,” he growls before his hand comes down on your ass a little harder. 

“God, Dabi, yes!” you scream out to the heavens, gripping the couch for dear life as he fucks you harder. You’ve never felt like this before: so gone. Your eyes are closed and your mind is completely blank from the blinding pleasure you feel, each wave much bigger than the one before and washing over you. 

The pleasure is just too good, and it’s starting to reach a deafening crescendo. You can feel it building in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. “Gonna cum!” you practically sob, your head thrown back. “Gonna cum for you Dabi!” 

Dabi cackles behind you, putting a foot up on the cushion to get a better angle as he continues to fuck your pussy into submission. “Me too,” he grunts. “Want you take it. Take all of me like a big girl, baby.” 

He presses his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick is hitting that spot that has you seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids. “Fuckin’ cum for me, mama,” he demands. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel. Cream all over that dick.”  

And you do. Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that chord finally snaps. You unravel, cumming all over Dabi’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you scream, your voice reaching heights fit for a shower singing session when you think no one is listening. You cream all over Dabi’s cock buried deep inside of you as he talks you through it, telling you how good of a girl you are as he strokes your outer thighs. 

“Gonna cum too,” he grunts, his hips snapping against your ass again and again as he chases his high. “You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?” 

“Y-Yes!” you choke out. “Please, please cum for me!” You begin tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to feel him burst inside of you. And that does it. He grips your hips for dear life and cums deep inside of you with a raspy, loud moan that makes your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock. 

You take every single ounce of his warm, creamy cum that shoots into your pussy, never once pulling away. You can feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curl your toes and gasp at the feeling coursing through your body. Finally, Dabi’s hips begin to slow until he is sloppily fucking you, chasing the rest of his high. Then with a soft groan, he pulls out, but it isn’t over for you yet. His cock is still hard as he begins to slide the head along your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum. “So you smell like me,” he softly says. “So no other man will even try.” 

You let out a weak moan as you feel his nut coat your skin and drip down your thighs, making them slick and wet. Finally, he releases you and you slump against the couch, exhausted and spent, but feeling so, so good. After giving you some time to compose yourself, Dabi helps you fix your dress (without the panties) and fishes a napkin out of his pocket to wipe his cum off of your thighs. ‘What a gentleman,’ you think, giggling to yourself. 

He seems sheepish and almost shy standing there, now in his briefs. “I didn’t…hurt you, did I?” he carefully asks as if afraid of the answer. You slowly shake your head, still in a daze. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “I’ve never been fucked like that before.” A proud smile stretches across Dabi’s face. “Just what you needed?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Absolutely,” you hum contently. “I hope it’s what you needed too.” He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the crown of your forehead. “That and much more.” You smile happily into his chest, glad that it was just as good for him as it was for you. 

For a while, you two stay like that: hugging in the warm breeze. Finally, Dabi clears his throat. “So…now what?” he awkwardly asks. 

“Well, we can’t go back inside like this,” you giggle. You motion to your dress still hiked up on your thighs and his semi-nakedness, though you’re sure that his physique would be welcomed. “And I think we both need to recover after those mind-blowing orgasms,” you purr, your pussy still sensitive from his dick beating it up. You curl up on the sofa and poke your bottom lip out at him. “Cuddle with me?” you coo. 

Dabi chortles at you, rolling his clear, blue eyes. “Such a baby,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky I like feelin’ you in my arms.” His sweet words make you flush in the breeze as he settles down next to you. He scoops you into his lap and securely wraps his muscled arms around you, squeezing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

You feel the same way. You loop your arms around his neck and cradle his head to your beating heart. “So is a date in order after this?” he curiously asks. “I’m not too familiar with this shit, so…” 

You can feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. A laugh bubbles in your chest. Leave it to him to feel awkward about dating even though he just fucked you doggystyle on a rooftop.

“Yes, Dabi,” you laugh. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You feel him smile into your chest and he squeezes you closer to him, making you giggle. You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. 

When your phone suddenly rings, you feel like shooting somebody. You whine as you grab your phone, Dabi keeping his arms wrapped around you to make sure you don’t fall. Keigo’s name flashes across the screen.

“That’s Keigo,” you sigh. I hope no one broke anything.” You answer the phone, going back to cuddling Dabi. “Yeah?” 

“So I’m guessin’ you made our guest feel welcomed?” Keigo immediately asks. “You two have been gone for, like, an hour.” 

“It hasn’t been that long, Keigo,” you scoff though you really don’t know what time it is. “How’s the party? Is my apartment still intact?” 

“Don’t you trust me?” he scoffs, but you don’t answer that question. “So you and Dabi are together now? I knew it was only a matter of time until he decided to pull up his big boy pants and tell you how he felt.” 

You scowl in confusion, your heart picking up speed. “How did you–?” 

“Know?” he finishes and gives a laugh. “Kid, I’ve known this shit for years! It just wasn’t my business to tell. However, you can thank yourselves because you saved time. Now everyone knows you two are an item.” 

Your eyes widen, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means. “Huh?” you dumbly ask, earning an eyebrow raise from Dabi. “Everybody totally heard you up there, sis!” Rumi yells in the background. “You ain’t slick!” You hear laughter from Shiggy and Natsuo in the background which embarrasses you even more. You feel like hiding in a hole and never coming out. Everyone heard you? Were you that loud? 

“We turned up the music, but it could only block out so much,” Keigo chuckles, humored at your embarrassment. “I didn’t know you could get that loud. You ever consider singing?” 

“Goodbye, Keigo,” you growl, cutting off his cackle by immediately hanging up. You toss your phone to the side but not before turning off your ringtone. You don’t want anything or anyone ruining this moment for you. “What’d he say?” Dabi curiously asks. 

“Nothing,” you quickly reply. You slide off of his lap so you’re sitting next to him and snuggle back into his chest, holding him close. “Just that he’s an asshole.” 

Dabi chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he puffs on the rest of the blunt, smoke billowing into the starry night sky above. “Well, that’s just a fact, babe.”  

THE END.

[babydollfoster]

First Date with Team Free Will

a/n: i honest to god don’t think i’ve posted a fic on here despite how much i talk about it >_<!! so here’s somethin i threw together in the span of a couple of hours because i’m on a rewatch and i’m halfway thru s4 and i LOVE the boys:( so here! proof i can write, not just talk about it! also afaik you can read this as any gender :) fem, masc, neither, both… don’t think there’s any defining qualities. much love!

pairings: sam winchester/reader, dean winchester/reader, castiel/reader

warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (w/ dean)

SAM

he’s SUCH a romantic. god, look at him, just- when he asked you, so sweet ‘nd kind, if he could take you out some night, how could you say no? dean gives his blessing by handing over the impala’s keys the next day and you and sam end up at a secondhand bookstore. you judge books by their covers and eventually settle on swapping something you enjoyed for the other’s; sam slips you a book called their eyes were watching god (“don’t- don’t give me that look. the title isn’t ‘cringe’! it’s beautiful. i promise you’ll enjoy it.”) and you hand rebecca over with a beaming grin, which falls into a look of surprise when you learn he hasn’t read it (“it’s a classic! how- okay, it’s a slow start, but you’ll love it.”) you grab takeout (your pick, sam insisted) and end up at a park, rolling a dusty picnic blanket out from the depths of the trunk and sitting under a tree, swapping quips and comments every once in a while. eventually, you end up with your head in sam’s lap and his hand in your hair, neither of you paying attention to your books no more, no, now you’re just… talking. it’s domestic and loving and romantic so you sit up, weasel your way into sammy’s lap and kiss him so delicately and he does the same back until you’re both almost devouring each other, literally stealing the other’s breath until you pull away, panting and giggling until sam whispers, “can we do this again?” and you whisper “every single day, sam.”

DEAN — MDNI, 16+

he sticks to the classics. he takes you out for dinner at the nearest diner and a midnight showing of whatever horror movie is out right now. you share a bucket of popcorn as you’re snuggled in the back right corner, cackling at cheesy jumpscares (“oh, i’m sooo scared.” “shut up, dee!”) and dry fake screams before you stumble back into baby after having smuggled in a flask of whiskey and collapse into the front bench, still too buzzed to drive, and kiss each other until your heads spin and the stars blur into one. eventually you pull away long enough for dean to drive you to the motel and you collapse into bed together; nothing happens, no, not on his first date with you. he wants to treat you right, sweetheart, but you’re both stripped down to your underwear nonetheless and hold each other close like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. the next morning, on the other hand, once the headache has set in and you’re oh so beautiful in the morning light, dean settles himself between your legs and noses your thighs apart. who are you to say no when dean’s right there and ready, huh?

CASTIEL

cas hasn’t ‘dated’, not on earth, certainly not in heaven, but he rifled through his host’s distant memories and took some inspiration from when jimmy courted amelia. so when cas slips his hands into yours one darkened evening, standing on the sidewalk in light rain, and asks if he ‘could take you out sometime’, you smirk and say, “how’d you learn that one?” but you agree nonetheless, and let the angel take the reigns. he whisks you away, dropping a message to sam and dean that you’re both in california and will be for the next three days and not to worry, he’ll bring you back unharmed (the boys freak, but you both ignore their calls). he takes you window-shopping, you eat at famous spots in LA and spend a little too much money, you sit atop the hollywood sign and learn the constellations, you teach cas how to have fun late one night at the beach and when you’re both breathless, backs covered in sand as you stare up at the heavens, he turns his head to you and asks, “may i kiss you?” and you whisper, “i thought you’d never ask.” and sure, he’s a little clueless, but he’s confident in how he has the rest of forever to learn how to please you, the way a human would.

taglist: no one yet! ask away :)

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader 

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn��t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical? 

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it. 

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.”  You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.  

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you. 

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there. 

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets.  “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?” 

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together. 

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?” 

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.” 

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted. 

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones. 

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so. 

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.” 

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it. 

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it. 

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on.  This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You) 

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life. 

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again;  “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words. 

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.” 

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down. 

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones. 

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit. 

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay. 

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror. 

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over. 

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating. 

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about. 

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly. 

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look. 

“I know. It’s our lucky day.” 

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up. 

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up. 

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets. 

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way. 

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything. 

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?  

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned. 

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you. 

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music. 

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents. 

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse. 

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter. 

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen. 

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat. 

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through. 

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?” 

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

 You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing? 

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay. 

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself. 

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror. 

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on. 

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed. 

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.” 

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you. 

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket. 

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns. 

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo?  As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.”  You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together. 

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout. 

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him.  You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea. 

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be. 

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it. 

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”  His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background. 

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet. 

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair. 

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor. 

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him. 

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out. 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.” 

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh. 

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously. 

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small. 

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull. 

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell. 

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp. 

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly. 

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself  as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside. 

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off. 

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you. 

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs. 

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit.  Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life. 

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s.  He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again. 

“Feel good?” 

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again. 

“Fuck,” he responds. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance. 

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist. 

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor. 

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.  

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you. 

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again. 

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars. 

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths. 

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps. 

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly. 

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy. 

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing. 

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love. 

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.” 

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein. 

[dauntless-gothamite]

It’s Not That Simple and It’s Not That Strange [2/?]

Fandom: First Kill  Pairing: Elinor Fairmont x Fem! Reader  Summary: After Elinor’s would-be engagement to Tom Davenport falls through, the Atwood-Fairmont family decides to host a selection ceremony to marry her off to another eligible male Legacy vampire. While you are not competing, you are attending the ceremony with your family, and you and Elinor keep finding your way to each other.  A/N: the title is from the song Desire by Grace Potter. this is my first time writing smut, let me know if you like it!! also there is a moodboard for reader’s outfit at the bottom of the fic :) Warnings: smut, 18+ only

Your family and Akio’s were staying in the same hotel, so as soon as you’d arrived, you met up with him to catch up before getting ready for the welcome party that was starting at 7:30 pm. Back in your hotel room, you unpacked your suitcase and got changed. First, you slid into some lacy black lingerie. Then you pulled on some nice black designer jeans and a white button down, leaving the top few buttons unbuttoned. After that, you pulled on black leather boots with a little heel and a black blazer with a floral pattern. You’d already painted your short nails a burnt orange colour and applied a bit of makeup, but you figured you could touch up the deep indigo eyeshadow, black mascara, and copper bronzer on your face. After a final glance in the mirror, you decided to add a matte gold chain necklace to the outfit before heading out the door confidently. In the lobby, you met up with your parents, who were also dressed in fancy clothes. Your mother wore a black and gold pantsuit with opal and emerald accessories, and your father wore a black suit with a golden handkerchief in the breast pocket. Both of your parents nodded in approval as you walked up to them. 

“Ready?” your father asked. You nodded, falling into position behind them as your mother took your father’s arm, and the three of you walked around to the grand courtyard of the hotel, where the party was being held. At the entrance, the Atwood-Fairmont family stood dutifully, greeting everyone as they filtered in. Your eyes were immediately drawn to Elinor, whose vibrant lipstick matched her red dress. She looked stunning, and you sent her a shy smile as your parents shook hands with hers. You had tuned out their conversation, only drawn back in when you heard your name. 

“Of course, Y/N here isn’t participating, but she is honored and thankful to be here as well,” you heard your mother say before Mr. and Mrs. Atwood-Fairmont turned to you. 

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Mr. Fairmont said, extending a hand. “We haven’t, but it is so nice to meet you,” you replied. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Fairmont said. “Now go on in and enjoy the festivities. The Sugimotos arrived just minutes ago and Akio had asked if you had arrived yet. There are refreshments walking around as well as a fully-stocked bar and buffet. We’ll be entering shortly, just as soon as all the guests have arrived.” You nodded and followed your parents through the gateway into the courtyard, where you quickly found Akio at the bar getting a dirty martini–his favorite. You rushed over to him and did a playful twirl, showing off your outfit. He let out a low whistle in reply before both of you burst into laughter. “You look great,” he complimented. “Seriously, you look better than half the men here hoping to woo Elinor.”

“You clean up well yourself,” you answered before ordering a drink from the bartender. “So,” you said, turning back to Akio. “Got any new book recommendations for me?” you said, skipping the small talk, just like you always did with him. Akio’s smile widened and his face lit up as the two of you began to talk about books, and before you knew it, the sun had set and the Atwood women were standing in the center of the portion of the courtyard that had been transformed into a dance floor and calling for a toast. 

“Thank you all for coming here tonight,” Davina Atwood said. “I’d like to start by saying that I apologize for not greeting everyone at the gate with the rest of my family; I was in a meeting. But I am here now, and I would like to start the evening by giving my granddaughter the chance to say a few words before we meet the gentlemen participating in this selection process. Everyone clapped as Elinor took a step forward, offering a dazzling smile to the crowd.

“As my grandmother just said, thank you all for being here tonight; this means so much to me and my family, and I can’t wait to strengthen the ties between our family and all the other Legacies. As I am sure everyone is aware, you are here as family representatives or maybe even my future husband, which is why, after all the participants have been introduced, the rest of the evening will be spent partying here, giving everyone a chance to mingle and relax before the formal elements of the selection begin tomorrow morning. Thank you again!” she said before stepping aside. Davina stepped forward once more and called forth the first contestant, a man with olive skin, curly dark hair, and the whitest teeth you had ever seen. Not caring much for this part of the evening, you returned to your conversation with Akio, which lasted until he had to step forward and introduce himself. Among the potential suitors, you saw your cousin Jonathan, the Savelli boy, the Davenports, and many others. You were grateful when the process was over and the lights dimmed, the music got louder, and everyone moved to the dance floor. 

–

Several fancy cocktails later, you were just buzzed enough to be more smiley than normal and receptive to touch. On the dance floor, you and Akio had danced for a while, but a couple songs ago he had disappeared with a tall, muscly man with dark skin and full lips; you doubted you’d see him again until tomorrow morning. Several men had danced with you, all moving on when it became clear you weren’t interested in doing anything more than dancing with them. Elinor’s younger sister Juliette danced next to you for a little bit before heading inside and disappearing from the party altogether, and while you’d seen Elinor dancing freely between several men earlier, you had no idea where she was now, and as the beat slowed down, your hands found their way to the waist of a woman in a maxi skirt with a slit that showed off her toned leg. The two of you got closer, and you smirked at her and pushed a dark strand of hair out of her face when the beat started to speed up again. Before you could get any further with the gorgeous woman, someone tapped her on the shoulder, whispered something to her, and another body took her place and slid a drink into your hand as she stepped off the dance floor. In the dark and flashing lights, you weren’t sure who you were dancing with, only that she was a woman. She spun in your arms and leaned in to kiss your neck while you sipped on the fresh drink appreciatively. 

“You have been teasing me all night with this shirt,” a sweet voice said, and one of the woman’s hands traced a line from your chin to the valley between your breasts, snagging on your gold chain. “I caught a peek of black lace under there, and the way you move your hips is downright sinful.” You smiled and tightened your grip around her waist, pulling her hips flush against your own and moving them, gaining confidence. 

“You could’ve come over anytime,” you whispered as she started rolling her hips against you and kissing your neck harder.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here now,” she said before guiding one of your hands higher up her waist and up to her chest. “I want,” she breathed out, her voice catching. “Touch me, please.” You squeezed your hand a little and she moaned softly. “Like that, just like that.”

“You want more, gorgeous?” you asked, head spinning. The woman nodded. You guided her against the wall in a dark corner of the courtyard, and slotted your thigh between her legs roughly, which caused the woman to moan softly. Her blonde hair was starting to come undone as she began to thrust her hips into you. Everything was a bit hazy as you downed the rest of your drink and set the glass down so you could grip her better as you moved with her.  

“More, just fuck, I need more,” she said, panting lightly. You gripped her jaw and your lips met hers, and she gripped your shoulders tightly as you bit down on her bottom lip. 

“God, you're hot,” you muttered, pulling back a little. “You’d look so good in my bed, moaning my name” you mumbled before you could stop it. The woman nodded and moaned louder at that. 

“Please,” she said.

“Wait, really?” you asked, shocked. 

“Yes!” she replied. You grabbed her hand and led her to your room, stumbling all the way to keep your lips connected as much as possible. 

–

In the light of the hallway, you got a better look at the woman. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were swollen, and all she was wearing was a vibrant red dress that hugged her in all the right places. Her light eyes looked hungry and her smeared lipstick drew your attention to her delicate lips. Her hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t help but think she looked a lot like Elinor Fairmont. But there was no way Elinor would hook up with you. You didn’t even think she was interested in women. 

As you closed your door, you pushed the woman back against it and she jumped up to wrap her legs around your waist. She tugged at your clothes, and the desperation in her touch made you throb as you carried her to the bed and set her down before removing the rest of your clothes. “Hurry,” she said, somehow both whiny and commanding at the same time. You spread her legs apart, moving her dress aside, and moaned when you saw her slick cunt exposed. 

“How naughty of you,” you teased, looking up at her for a moment. 

“Just hurry up!” she answered. Within moments, you were on her, your fingers working against her folds, and she spread her legs wider and bucked her hips against your hand. With your other hand, you reached up and grabbed her breast, finding her nipple and pinching it lightly. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “I want to taste you.”

“Yes, yes!” she replied, her voice getting higher. Without hesitation, you leaned forward and quickly found her clit with your tongue before licking and sucking in tandem with the thrusting of your fingers. “So close!” she cried, and you doubled your efforts. Within moments, she came, and you lapped it up, moaning at the taste. You looked up with a sly grin, and she pulled you up to her and in for a deep kiss. “Your turn,” she said playfully before shoving you back on the bed. You grinned down at her as she spread your thighs apart, much like you had just done to her. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants,” the blonde started, leaning forward so you could feel her breath against your core. “And I want you to ride my face like it’s your damn job,” she finished before leaning forward, her hands on your ass pulling you forward. You groaned and started moving your hips, giving her exactly what she wanted, causing her to moan and send pleasant vibrations through your center. She leaned in like she couldn’t get enough of you, and you’d never felt so wanted before, not even by your ex boyfriend. A few flicks of her tongue later and you were cumming all over her face. She smiled up at you before crawling into bed next to you and saying, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you replied, wrapping yourself around her as she nuzzled into you. But she was already asleep. 

It was only the next morning, when you woke up alone in your bed, that you realized the woman you’d fucked didn’t just look like Elinor Fairmont. She was Elinor Fairmont. 

[cas-skz]

Work Pleasures

Namjoon x fem!reader

Your best friend suggests a new way for you to make extra cash and your office had the perfect background, but the vent system makes things take an interesting turn.

18+!!! MDNI

warnings/what to expect: sex toy play, pet names: daddy & slut, rough sex, spanking, cum shots, unprotected sex, dom male, recording during sex, partial creampie, lots of dirty talk

BTS & SKZ FIC REQUETS: OPEN

writers note: yes hello, did I try a new writing style again? yes. please let me know what you think, id' really appreciate it. I read through this once but ya girl aint the brightest so forgive me for grammar and spelling mistakes. ANYWAYSSS i hope you like it cas xx

Counseling at the high school wasn't cutting it anymore. Between bills, car payments and food, life was getting more and more expensive. Maybe that's how you found yourself in this position, parading around your office, after school hours, in a lacey bra, an oversized dress shirt and short plaid skirt. The camera was low enough to not show your face, but the viewers could still tell you were in some sort of office space. "You seriously think this will work?" You questioned, speaking to your best friend who was on the other line of the phone. It was her idea after all, since her sister had made a pretty good chunky of money from OnlyFans. "Yes, and Mel is gonna promo you on her page so you'll get attention right away." You groan quietly at her response, quickly ending the call and setting your phone up as a second angle.

You tried to keep your moans quiet as the rabbit vibrator worked slowly on you, your free hand playing with one of your breasts as you whispered pet names to the camera, just another thing your friend had suggested. "Fuck Daddy." You moan firmly, arching your back slightly in the chair as you felt your climax approaching.

"You know-" A voice suddenly interrupted, causing you to shoot up in your chair and quickly turn off and stash the toy in your desk. You felt your cheeks burn red, jumping up to turn off the camera and hiding your exposed chest. Fuck. I'm finished." You turn slowly, hands gripping tightly at the edge of your shirt. Principal Joon stood tall in the door way, and to your surprise, was smirking. In your 3 years at the school, you swore you never saw the man even crack from his usual stone face. "The vent -" His finger pointed towards the vent, directly behind your desk as he stepped in the room, his keys being tossed aside as he closed the door behind him. You clenched your thighs together, the throbbing feeling returning to your clit as he walked slowly towards you. "It leads to my office, and you aren't very quiet Ms. Y/n"

What do you even say in a situation like this? More importantly, what do you do? Your eyes shyly scan the taller man, who's hair was messy compared to the usual slicked back, his brown eyes looking at you with desire as his fingers worked at his belt, the bulge in this pants being the main point of attraction for your eyes. You let your gaze fall to the ground, starting to feel innocent of all things, like it wasn't a problem that you were masturbating in your office. "I'm sorry Principal Joon, I promise it's a one time thing. It won't happen again." You played into the persona, flashing puppy dog eyes as you let the dress shirt drop open, allowing your breasts to expose. What were you thinking. Did you really get yourself that worked up? A single laugh escaped his lips as he closed in, his pants now slightly undone and his belt positioned on his hand. “Still, bad girls need to be punished.”

Principal Joon smirked down at you as you stare at his cock, thick, veiny and the perfect length, your hand pumping it slowly as you explained yourself in a sweet voice, his facial expressions reacting with small laughs and smiles when you mentioned OnlyFans and needing the extra cash. His hand balled in your hair, guiding your face closer to him as his hand replaced yours, stroking his cock. “I'm sure a pretty slut like you would do very well.” Principal Joon smirked, one hand jerking himself and the other holding your head back, eyes directly on him. “So let’s make you some money.” His words grunted as a stream of cum flew on your face, coating your lips as cheek. You happily cleaned it up with your hands and swallowed every bit you could.

Pulling you towards him, Principal Joon gently grabbed your jaw, his lips lingering near yours, “slut” he smirked, his lips pushing into yours, his coffee breathe hot against against you as his hands trail to your hips, rolling them into his as he moved you towards your desk. There’s no going back now. Might as well make it worth it. “Am I still going to punished, sir?” You question, your bottom lip sticking out slightly as your fingers worked to unbutton his shirt, exposing his rock hard abs. Principal Joon's grip tightened on your waist, shooting an evil grin at you before turning you around and pushing you against the desk, bare bottom exposed. His large hand slapped down firmly, sending an echo through the room. “You were a bad girl. You need to be punished.” He spoke firmly, another slap landing on your ass, causing you to wince.

Principal Joon didn’t let up with the teasing. Bringing you to the edge of orgasm before leaving you high and dry for a few minutes, only to start again. This really is a punishment, leaving you throbbing and cock hungry. Your ass was red with slap marks, pussy swollen and wet from his fingers working on it vigorously. “Please sir” you whimper, turning slightly to see the male, your puppy dog eyes shooting him a look as your hips rocked slowly. “Please fuck me, I need your cock.” You begged, your hand reaching towards your core as you spread your pussy lips apart, a finger teasing your entrance for him. His hand smacked down on your ass again, the sting making your hips jerk. “You think you deserve it?” He questioned, his hand slowly pumping his cock as he ran it slowly over your entrance, to your clit where he rubbed it slowly, “You’ve been such a bad girl already and bad girls shouldn’t be rewarded.” He smirked, his cock actions repeating their movements, his tip pushing in you just the tiniest bit. You moaned quietly at the feeling of flesh on flesh, your body wanting more of him inside you. Was he always this attractive? Why haven’t you thought about fucking him before? Why are you suddenly so desperate for him. A million thoughts ran though your head as you laid out, waiting for Principal Joon to make his next move.

To your surprise Principal Joon grabbed your phone to film his view, two fingers sliding easily into you. “You think you can handle this big cock?” His words made you shiver, your hips uncontrollably pushing into his fingers, wanting more. “Such a little slut.” He teased, removing his fingers and slapping your ass firmly once again. Finally, he shoved his cock deeply into you, a small whimper escaping your lips as he started thrust, giving you no time to adjust to how big he actually was. “Fuck Daddy, you feel so good” you whine, hands gripping the edge of the desk as he paddled away at your ass, the marks already burning but still exciting you each time. Principal Joon was a lot rougher than the other people you had been with and he made you tell him exactly how everything felt. Suddenly, you felt Principal Joon bottom out inside you as he reached forward, placing the phone on some books so you were both in view. His hand balled into your hair, hips slamming into you at close rang so you could feel just how big he was. “This one’s just for me. I like watching my little slut get fucked.” he whispered in your ear, his lips pressing into your temple as your walls started to tighten around him. His little slut? You could get used to that.

His hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans as he pounded into you, each thrust a masterclass in raw ecstasy as you peaked, body shaking with pleasure as juices leaked from your pussy. “Good girl.” He groaned, his thrusts only letting up the smallest bit as your body vibrated. He kept himself fully inside you as he reached for the phone again, tossing it to the side and turning all his attention to you. His hand moved some hair from your face, lips reaching over to find yours, deep passionate kisses being exchanged as his thrusts slowed, each stroke making you twitch with pleasure. His teeth found your shoulder as his thrusts picked up again, bites and kisses being placed randomly. “Does my good girl deserve to get her pussy filled?” His words were hot against your ear, lips now working at your neck. It made you shiver and happily moan. “Or am I going to make a mess on that pretty little face again?” He questioned, his cock pulling out mostly but leaving enough to keep you pleased. What the fuck do I say? Think, quick! Sure, you have had fantasies like this but now…being put on the spot. Your mind was blank. “Whatever makes you happy Daddy.” You finally say, your eyes glancing up at the man who’s hands ran over your body, gently rubbing the fresh marks he had left on you.

“Are you planning on keeping Daddy happy?” He questioned, his eyes locking with yours as a smirk creeped onto his lips. Principal Joon pulled you up from the desk, turning you to face him as he kissed you once more, sending tingles through out your already exhausted body. He leaned into you as his lips worked on yours, positioning you on the edge of the desk. The dark pink head of his member rubbed your clit slowly, soft moans escaping your lips as he pushed in and brought himself back to your lips. “Answer me.” He demanded, though his voice was soft and his eyes looked at you weakly. It’s just a fuck buddy. Bri did say you needed one. “Yes Daddy” you quietly reply, lips finding his once more. It only took a few more thrusts until you felt Principal Joon‘s cock twitch inside you, thick cum escaping his length before he pulled out, emptying the rest of his load on your stomach. His lips stayed on yours, slow kisses being exchanged as your bodies both settled.

“You sure you want that online?” He teased, his fingers working to button his shirt as you cleaned up. “I just don’t want your friends getting jealous.” Principal Joon moved towards you with your jacket in hand. “Jealous?” You question, allowing him to help you put it on before turning to face the man. His cheeky little smirk returned to his lips again, one finger making your head tilt up to gaze into his eyes. “Mhm- I’m sure none of your friends will be getting fucked as good as you.” His lips pressed into yours once more before you both exited. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all. He did leave you soaking and weak in the knees. Principal Joon walked you to your car, a hand firmly gripping your waist to keep you stable. He opened the door for you before pressing another kiss into your lips. “Don’t forget to send me that video” he said against your lips.

[nerdycrusadecomputer]

Me again :D

So I have this idea for IT and do whatever you want with it but here it is:

The reader is friends with all The Losers and she (maybe a fem!reader?) always has her nose in a book? And they always tease her on how she can't see where she's going and things like that but they all actually look after her? Like they'll steer her out of the way of people or something?

Just a thought! Maybe you could write headcanons or a fic or anything else :]

Omg i love this ask!! I'm gonna start writing right away but i also have school so sorry if I reply a little late 😅 oh and i thought of this as like half fic half headcanon

Key words: y/n - your name ; l/n - last name ; y/n/n - your nickname

Losers club x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: slight cursing

(not my gif)

First let's start with headcanons

First things first your best friend must be addressed! Ben is your bestie, as well as Beverly but you he different reasons as to why they are

Ben and you are your typical book loving duo, you both have to be reading something except instead of you both reading at the library you're the one that walks around with a book up your nose, as Ben is the one in the public library exploring new kinds of book genres

And Beverly is friends with you because your another girl, enough said, and she likes to tease you a lot by hiding your books so that you ca see the world for once in your life

Every time you go out for a walk you're always out reading a book, i mean even while walking! It even results in to bumping in to someone or a tree because you weren't paying attention

And the losers love seeing you just hit your whatever (head, hand, wrist), stop reading, rub the hurt area a little bit and just continue to walk while reading like nothing happened, it's hilarious to them, well at least some of them

But in instances where you almost fall in to a ditch or run in to someone, like they would be talking about something, you being in another dimension and not listening, if they notice your not paying attention on what's in front of you they would slightly pinch your shirt and pull you away, or if that doesn't work one of them will just grab you and move you out of the way

And on the instance where it is your birthday they would give you books as a present, and you couldn't be happier but sometimes you tell them they don't have to buy you only books, but they always say they don't know what else to buy you since when they're out shopping you never look at the shops, but your book instead, yeh you would catch glimpses of the shops when you looked up occasionally but nothing caught your eye

Anyway now on to the one shots (yes there are multiple ones but it's basically iconic moments of you and da losers)

"hey y/n!" Richie called out, no reply

"i think she's lost in her books again." Ben said as he looked towards y/n to se her sitting on a towel, still fully clothed

"i mean for fuck's sake y/n! Enjoy the god damn view for once in your life!" Beverly yelled at the girl as she pointed towards the quarry

"hm?" Y/n questioned as if she didn't hear anything, not even lifting her head up still continuing to read like Bev didn't say anything

"that's it, I'm done with this." Beverly said as she got up from her rock, everyone looked at the ginger girl confused as she stomped her way towards y/n

"what the- hey!" Y/n yelled as Beverly picked her up, before y/n could jump you of her arms Beverly there her in to the lake, the other losers laughed as y/n got out of the water with a loud groan

"My book and clothes are ruined!" She yelled

"i like how you took acknowledge of the book firs and then your clothes." Mike chuckled as he pointed towards y/n's wet ass clothes

"i borrowed it from the library, I'm gonna love like $13!" She yelled, "you're paying for this Bev! Like literally." She added

"fine I'll give you my money you poorling." Bev said as she flailed $15 in the air, y/not out of the big body of water and dried her and before grabbing the $15

"I'm pretty sure the librarian is gonna get a hell of a good laugh when he hears your excuse." Richie said as he laid down on one of the rocks in what looks like to be an uncomfortable position

"yup."

One-shot number 2

The loser's were just walking down the street, the boy's had their bikes bikes to their left, Beverly was flailing her arms around while telling a crazy story that happened at her aunt's, and y/n... Well she was reading a book as usual not looking a where she was going

As she was about to hit a side of a building someone pulled her wrist harshly

"you gotta be more careful l/n, you're gonna get hurt." Stanley said as he let go of y/n's wrist

"thanks Stan." Y/n said as she moved the book a little farther from her face

But when still ended up hitting a pole that was in front of her

One-shot number 3

Everyone was gathered at Bill's house as everyone else was setting up snacks, pillows and blankets for movie night, y/n was sat on the couch reading a rather spicy book

Little did she know Richie was being her reading everything, somehow faster than her

"damn you're in to this stuff y/n/n?" Richie said startling the girl

"shush your speaking hole Richard!" She whispered

"well i didn't know you knew such big words." Wichita said as he out his hands halfway up as a way to say he surrendered, he walked away as y/n's face was red from embarrassment, she closed the book shut, out it in her bag and decided to help the others

And that is all i could muster up in my pea sized brain! Hope you like it and if you would like to change anything you can just message me :)

Anyway hope you have a great day/ night/ afternoon

Bye!!!

[arizona2004]

Heeey,I love love love your writing, just wanted to ask if you would want to write for adult nyx, can you write a fluff nyx × reader fic that she is working as a baker in a pastry shop and nyx sees her working when he is strolling in town, and he is captivated by her, a cute flirting ensues?

Hope you can write for him, thanks😘😘

Honestly, this is far from my best work, sorry. It’s also draft 2; draft 1 strayed a bit too far from the request so I had to rewrite it. I’ll be posting draft 1 soon, though.

Nyx x fem!reader

Word count: 1697

Walking down one of the many streets in the bustling city of Velaris I take a deep breath and glance at the skies, hoping my uncle Cas won’t come looking for me just because I skipped one early morning training. I don’t have the capacity to try and fight this morning. I just need a break. Maybe a cup of coffee or something yummy for breakfast will help.

As I continue my walk along The Sidra, into the city, looking for somewhere to eat I spot the most beautiful female. I stop in my tracks, unable to move as my mouth falls open. Her beautiful hair blows slightly in the wind. I take a minute to swallow the lump in my throat and look for the shop she had been returning to.

I see her through a large window of a small little pastry shop. She’s holding a tray of biscuits in her hand and as she sets the tray down in front of the customers she looks up and makes eye contact with me.

I winnow immediately and notice the look of shock and confusion on her face as I stand before the door to her shop and push it open. Her look of shock grows when she looks up at the sound of the bells on the door jingling. She starts to say something, perhaps welcoming me in, but stops and nearly drops the pot of coffee she’s holding.

I jump forward slightly and catch the pot before it hits the ground. My hands burn as I hold the pot from the glass and metal and struggle to adjust my grip, so I'm holding the heat-safe handle. I wince when I finally have the pot held safely in my hands and look up to the beautiful female running the pastry shop.

“I am so so so sorry,” she says frantically, taking the pot of coffee from me.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I didn’t mean to; I’m sorry.”

She offers me a small smile and nods before touching my arm slightly, guiding me toward the counter. “Let me help you. Your hands probably hurt; I have bandages in the back.”

A nod is my only response as she walks me behind the counter and leaves me there for a moment. She goes through a doorway into the back and returns a moment later with a box marked for first aid.

Taking bandages and a salve out of the box, she sets it on the counter and gently grabs my hands, bringing them to her for better viewing. I stare at her, my breath caught in my throat as she opens the tin of salve.

“My name’s Nyx,” I say quietly, unsure what else to say.

“I’m y/n,” she replies, only glancing up at me for a second.

“That’s a very beautiful name, y/n.” I smile, quirking one side of my lips up slightly more, trying to smirk the way my father always does at my mother. “It's fitting for a very beautiful female.”

Y/N smiles but quickly returns her gaze to my hands and continues applying the salve. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “Did you come here for breakfast, Nyx?”

“Yes!” I speak without thinking, “I’ve heard raving reviews.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” I lie. I’m not sure I have heard about this particular place, but I don’t usually listen when people talk either.

“What do you like to eat?”

“Everything,” I answer, not lying this time.Y/N laughs at that response, and I can’t help the grin that blooms on my face in response.

“Alright. I suppose I can whip a little bit of everything for you.”

“Yes! Do you have to-go boxes, though? I may need to take some home and share with my family.”

“Yes, I have to-go boxes. What’s your family like?” she asks, taking the bandages and wrapping them around my hands once.

“Big. Noisy and crowded. They can be a lot sometimes.”

“That sounds nice,” she whispers, not looking at me again. And I hate it. I hate it because all I want is to see her beautiful y/e/c eyes.

“What’s your family like?”

“I wouldn’t know; I’ve never had one. I’m an orphan.”

“Oh,” I say, not knowing how to respond.

She laughs then. “It’s fine. I’m over it- I just like making people uncomfortable by bringing it up; it’s funny.”

I smile and look at her again, seeing the truth in her eyes, but also the hint of pain. And I know even though she’s telling the truth, she’s not entirely over it.

“How long have you worked here?” I ask, gently brushing my fingers along her hand.

“Since I bought the place about a year ago. I’m the owner, manager, and head baker.”

“Really?” I know I sound like a toddler that’s just discovered cake for the first time. My eyes are wide and I can’t help but feel a little jealous. “My parents never give me any responsibility. And I know it must be quite difficult to work as you do, but sometimes I just wish I could experience it just once.”

“I’m hiring,” she says, a smile blooming on her face beside mischievous eyes. “Mostly you would just do menial tasks, but if it’s the experience you want, then I can give you that.” Her eyes twinkle again in a way that makes me think work isn’t the only thing she’s talking about.

I blush in response before nodding vigorously. “I can start immediately!”

Another wicked smile appears, and she hands me a tray of biscuits to deliver to a table for cleaning up the first aid kit.

Hours later, I collapse into a chair for my lunch break. Which wasn’t always mandatory. I hate any of my ancestors that were against the labor laws. This is exhausting.

“Feeling alright?” Y/n’s soft voice startles me as she places a cup of water before me.

“I’m more tired than a 7-year-old Illyrian after accepting my uncle Cassian’s challenge to run through his entire workout for cookies. And trust me, I’ve been in that position.”

Y/N immediately cracks up laughing, and I can’t help the smile it brings to my face in response. “I finished making you a little bit of everything,” she says quietly. “Then, when you’re done, you’re off the hook.”

I nod, not knowing what I would say in response. So I let her pile the food onto a table and scarf down as much of the delicious food as possible before packing the rest up.

When I stand and go to her to pay for the food, she just shakes her head. “You paid for your food by working today. I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me.”

My brow furrows in thought for a second, but then I pull out the bills again, and before she can start protesting again I speak up, “I volunteered to help. For the experience, not money. So I still need to pay.”

Y/N doesn’t protest again as I set the money down on the counter and pick up my boxes, winnowing away with a light wave and smile.

I can’t help my thoughts from straying to her for the rest of the day and training, and even when my father scolds me slightly for skipping training, I'm not really listening; I’m thinking about her.

When I go to sleep at night, I close my eyes and see her smiling back at me. When sleep finally takes me, my dreams are filled with her: sitting across from me in a restaurant, dancing with me, meeting my family, enjoying my family.

Thinking about the way her eyes changed whenever I mentioned my family, I just know she would love being a part of it. I can’t help the smile that blooms on my face as soon as I wake. I need to ask her out on a date as soon as possible, so I climb out of bed with no intention of donning my gear for training. Instead, I put on some of my “regular” clothes and rush out the front door before anyone can say anything to keep me in the house.

As soon as I’m standing before her shop I still and wait. It’s dark inside, so she must not be opened yet. I decide to think over everything we talked about yesterday to distract myself. Surely it won’t come as a surprise that I’m asking her out; I tried flirting yesterday and smirked as much as possible. Dad says his signature smirk is a sure-fire way to get a girl, and even though I’ll never tell him, I dropped some of uncle Cassian’s smooth lines that he taught me. Then I tried that cold brooding thing that Az does, but it wasn’t something I could pull off.

When a light flicks on inside, I lift my head immediately and spot Y/N behind the counter. Her gaze lifts a second later as I move to the door, and her eyes lock with mine. For a split second, a look of fear crosses her face, but it’s gone in a second, a look of relief replacing it.

She comes to the door quickly and unlocks it, letting me inside. “Here for more experience?” her voice finds my ears as soon as the door is opened.

“No,” I say with a sigh and without hesitation. “I mean, I can, but that’s not why I came.”

“Oh? Why did you come?”

“To ask you out on a date,” I say without thinking it through again.

“Okay.”

“Okay..?”

“If you want to ask me out on a date, then ask.”

A huge grin makes use of my mouth muscles as she explains the meaning behind her answer. I swallow thickly and speak. “Will, you, the most beautiful female I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on- Y/F/N- go out to dinner with me?”

“Mother above Nyx, for a second there it sounded like you were going to propose.”

“Trust me, Y/N, if I’m proposing, you’ll be sure of it.”

[meganlpie]

Puppies

Based on this request:  Could you write a Sam x fem!reader x Dean? The reader was at the bunker was Castiel appears with 3 puppies. Cas tells the reader that the puppies are Sam, Dean and Gabriel (Doesn’t matter what breeds they are). The reader could also shift into a dog and takes care of the three, almost like a mother dog would. Few days later, as the reader woke up in the morning in her bed. She felt two bodies beside her, as she looks. Sam and Dean are back in their normal forms. And Gabriel as well, but he left 

Here you are, lovelies! I do not own ANY SPN characters. They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: SPN-type magic. Humor. Almost a crack-fic??

Pairings: fem!reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Gabriel(sort of), Castiel, Crowley. No real pairing here.

A scream escaped your lips when you turned around to find Castiel standing in the kitchen with 3 puppies in his arms. "Cas, what the hell?!" you cried once your heart slowed down again. "Why do you have puppies? Dean's gonna kill you for bringing dogs into the bunker…especially the kitchen." Castiel handed the puppies to you. "I do not think he'll mind. Dean is one of the puppies…Sam and Gabriel are the other two."

         "H-How?" Castiel went into detail of how Gabriel had managed to piss of a coven of witches. One witch had decided to help, but had gotten the transportation spell wrong, thus the two puppies now sniffing around the kitchen and the third in Castiel's arms. "Oh…okay then. Well, I guess we're going to have to figure out how to get them back. Uh, which one is which?" you asked and Castiel shrugged a little. "I'm not certain, but perhaps if we say their names, they might respond."

         The puppy in his arms wiggled, jumping on the counter and instantly diving into the pie you'd gotten in preparation for the hunters' return. You and Castiel looked at each other and, in unison, declared, "Dean." The puppy popped his head out of the pie long enough to give a little yip before diving back in. You rolled your eyes fondly and picked him up. He struggled against you, but you placed a kiss to the top of his head and he stopped, nuzzling into you.

         The other two puppies began playing tug-of-war with one of your shirts. "SAM!" you snapped and one puppy let go to look at you. He stared up at you with those literal puppy dog eyes and you nearly melted. That was SO much more effective this way. Still, that was one of your favorite shirts. "Leave it. And Gabriel?" The third puppy yipped and you glared a little. "Stay out of my clothes."

         Your warnings worked for all of five minutes before all three of them were fighting and rolling around the bunker. "This isn't going to work," you told Castiel, "They need an authority figure. Another dog to get them all to listen." You glanced at the angel. "You can't make yourself into a dog, can you?" Castiel gave you a look that told you that he was completely unamused. "Of course not, Y/N." You sighed a shrugged, muttering that it didn't hurt to ask.

         "Maybe we could-" Castiel started, but stopped when he saw you reaching for your phone. "Is now really the time to get lost in the TikTok?" You arched a brow at him. "I don't want to hear it, Cas. Who was it I got watching funny cat videos the last time we were on a hunt together? Besides, I'm not using an app. I'm calling someone who owes me a favor."

         "Hello, Kitten," Crowley's voice practically purred from the speaker on your phone. "Crowley, you know that favor you owe me? Time to cash in."

*short time skip*

         You looked up as Castiel frowned. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. Crowley's shoulders raised in a little shrug. "No, but what Kitten wants, she gets. Now, pet," he said, turning to you. You cocked your head to the side to indicate that you were listening. "The spell will only last until the boys are human again. Hopefully that won't be too long. I'd hate to never see your smiling face again."

         Before you could stop yourself, a happy BARK! sounded from you. You glanced over at the nearest reflective surface. Sure enough, Crowley's spell had worked. You were now a four-legged man's best friend with the ability to think and hear like a human instead of dog. Being so close to the ground was odd though. You were so lost in looking at your reflection that you nearly forgot the purpose of the spell. That is until three little puppies began yipping at you.

         You let out a soft little growl, indicating to the puppies that they needed to behave. To your surprise they actually listened and you were pleased. At least now they wouldn't trash the bunker too badly. Unfortunately you now had three shadows that wouldn’t stop following you everywhere.

         For the next few days, Sam, Dean, and Gabriel followed you around everywhere you went. When they got to playing and grew too wild, you were able to round them up again with either a growl or giving them a little nudge with your nose. Dean liked to try and run between your feet while Sam tried to ride on your back (probably as payback for all the piggyback rides you often asked him for). Gabriel simply wandered around looking for mischief when you let him.

         Honestly, if anyone had told you that being turned into a dog and looking after three puppies was tougher than hunting, you would have laughed in their faces. Now you knew better. It was exhausting and you couldn't wait for your boys to be back to normal. You just wanted things to be the way they were. About a week later, you got your wish.

         You woke up feeling warm air fanning your face. You let out a groan, using your hand to bat at whatever it was. "OW!" Your eyes flew open at the sound of the voice you knew well. "Sam?" you questioned before noticing the weight across your stomach. You glanced back and saw Dean now staring at you wide-eyed. "Dean?" Both brothers nodded, red-faced. While sharing a bed with one of the brothers was nothing new, the three of you hadn't been in such close quarters in your down time. Thank goodness that Gabriel seemed to have left already. You sighed, reaching up to run your hand over your face and that was when you noticed something.

         "WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!"

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @sirkekselord​ @aikibriarrose​ @lady-of-lies​ @esoltis280​ @stories-by-shanna-p​ @motleymoose​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @supernatural4life2022​

SPN Tags: @jotink78​

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[severusish]

The Language of Fanfiction and Fandoms:  some vocabulary for folks who are new to this

For those of you who are new to the Fandom/Fanfiction world, or if you’re still confused about all the different terms we use, here’s a little rundown of useful things to know:

List of terms:

Fanfiction: an original work inspired by or made in response to or in admiration of or to continue the storyline of a pre-existing fictional work/TV series/film/novel/novel series/cartoon/etc.

Fanfic: short for a work of fanfiction

Fic: short for fanfic.

Fandom: the community of people/groups/individuals who are fans of a particular work of fiction or a set of characters or one character in particular.

Universe: the original realm/reality /setting of a story/series/TV show/film/novel.

OU: means pretty much the same. = Original Universe. 

AU: alternate universe. For example, you could write a Pride and Prejudice AU where Darcy and Elizabeth work together in a law firm. OTP: one true pairing. Your favorite couple/couples/throuples/any-ples from fiction.

NOTP: the pairing you really don’t like.

Ship: to ship/a ship/shipping/shipped/shipper(s). A ship is a pairing of characters (or more than two characters) from a TV/novel series or book/film that you really like. ‘Shipping’ two or more people means that you can see them being together. Saying ‘I ship them’ also works. Usually, ships are made official by combining the names of the characters to create a ship name. Examples of ships: Rumbelle, Snucissa, Drarry, WandaVision, etc etc etc etc. Sometimes a ship is created, but the characters weren’t together or couldn’t be together in the canon. 

Canon: the original version of the story/series/book/film. Headcanon/HC: the way you imagine a character/a story/event/specific element of the canon to be in your head

Before the start of a chapter or after the end of a chapter, you can include your Author’s Note (AN or A/N) to introduce the chapter or thank people for your reviews. A/N+ or AN+ = addition to the original AN. 

A beta reader is someone who test-reads your story for you and potentially checks it for grammar mistakes and plot holes.

NSFW: not safe for work. (contains v*olent or s*xual material).

SFW: safe for work (is clean/safe for all audiences).

TW or T/W: tr*gger warning. This is something you add at the beginning of every chapter if needed, in case someone reading might have a problem with the content of your story. For example: [TW: mentions of ad*ltery].

X: And, romantic/sexual. (Refers to characters being shipped/paired together, e.g. Cas X Dean)

&: And, platonic. (thank you @kelyon)

Y/n or Y/N: Your name. (means: insert your name here). Used in the context of reader-inserts or XReader fics. 

H/c, E/c, L/n: Your hair color, your eye color, last name. These kind of tags depend on the author, there’s a lot of artistic freedom, and generally they’ll explain what their tags mean in the A/N.

Reader-insert or [insert character name]XReader or ReaderX[insert character name: a story where the leading character/protagonist is the reader, and the story is written in second person ‘you.’ Example: LuciusXReader. 

Fem!reader: a female reader / reader with feminine qualities

Male!reader: a male reader/ reader with masculine qualities

Lime/lemon/any citrus fruit at this point: a rating that refers to something s*xual or romantic added into a story.

Slow burn: this means the story takes a long time to develop, or it takes a long time for the OTP/Shipped characters to fall for each other

One-shot: a story that is only one chapter long.

Multi-chap/multichapter(ed): a fic with more than one chapter

Drabble/drabbles: a series of short sform scenes or stories.

Songfic: a fanfic based on/around a song

OC: original character, i.e. a character you created for the story

AO3/Archive of Our Own: a website/repository/platform for fanfiction works and authors

Fanfiction.net /FFN.net: another website/repository/platform for fanfiction works and authors

Wattpad: ditto the two previous. ^

Ratings: fanfics come with ratings, to signal whether the work is appropriate for certain age groups. examples: https://rating-system.fandom.com/wiki/FictionRatings

Character tags/character modifiers: Often when authors are describing the characters that are in their story, they’ll also specify what era or version of the original story’s character they’re using. At other times, the character tag will be used to describe the frame of mind of the character or their role in the story. The role or era will be divided by an exclamation mark (!), followed by the name of the character. For example: Caretaker!Hermione, Evil!Dumbledore, Old!David.

Story-emotion tags (idk what these are officially called either): Below a fanfiction you will often find emotion tags, such as: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Hurt, Healing, Anger, Romance (which could probably use explanations as categories as well).

TL;DR or tl;dr: ‘too long, didn’t read.’ Usually written before a reply to a long post. (I’m expecting at least one person to say this in response to the post LMAO)

Below a story you will also find a list of the characters and pairings/ships who are in the story.

Crossover: when you bring elements of one universe/story into another. For example: A Harry Potter and Skulduggery Pleasant crossover.

DNI: do not interact. Reserved as a warning tag to ward off people who wouldn’t like you or your content.

Contributions from @deliriumsdelight7:

Under TW and T/W, you can also add CW or C/W (which I believe stands for Content Warning? Someone correct me if I’m wrong).

WIP stands for Work In Progress. Basically any unfinished artistic endeavor (often used by writers complaining about the multitude of fics they haven’t finished yet).

Adding to OTP is OT3: when you ship three people together in a throuple/thruple.

One mild correction on “drabble,” which I didn’t realize is a point of contention in the fic-writing world: a drabble is exactly 100 words. No more, no less. A double-drabble is 200 words. A tribble/trabble/trouble is 300 words. A drabblethon is a longer fic comprised entirely of 100-word drabble chapters.

“Dead dove: do not eat.” This phrase comes from Arrested Development, where a character sees a paper bag in the fridge with the aforementioned phrase written on it. He opens the bag and sees… a dead dove. He then says, “I don’t know what I expected.” If a fic is tagged with this, the author is basically saying, “this fic has been tagged to show that some of the material will not be palatable for all audiences. Consider yourself warned.”

Slash: a term for fanfic shipping two men together. I don’t see this as often as I used to, and I think it’s fallen out of favor somewhat.

Femslash: same as above, but with women.

Additions from @kelyon 

One point of clarification (difference between X and & on AO3): The way AO3 tags work, “Character X Character” is used for ROMANCE (or shipping). “Character & Character” is for FRIENDSHIP (or general non-romantic interactions).

I’ll never forget the  post where an anon asked if anyone had recommendations for “Henry X Regina” fics and the person they asked responded with absolute revulsion. I believe the anon was actually asking for “Henry & Regina.”

Also, the blog @ao3commentoftheday is a great way to learn more about fandom terms and history.  Have fun!

Also see this: Three Laws of Fandom @ozhawkauthor

There are LOADS more things to add under the ‘Language of Fanfiction’ category but I can’t think of any right now so please DM me, reblog this, whatever, with any additions or corrections you may have!

See this list of Fanfiction Terminology as well.

PLEASE ADD THINGS PEOPLE, ALL ADDITIONS APPRECIATED!! Reblog/tag me when you update the list, would love to see the list get bigger/better!

Thank you!

- Severusish.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Make Up Or Make Out Or Both

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.4k

Summary: The Reader is pissed at Sam for leaving her. 

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, slight dirty talk, make up sex), quite a bit of angst at the beginning, a bit of fluff at the end

a/n: 18+!!!! SMUT!!!! NO MINORS!!!!! Hello, loves! I have had the worst writer’s block but I finally was able to write. I’m running out of ideas so please request some fics! Anyways I hope you enjoy this fic!

You banged on the metal door of the bunker trying to get Sam to open up. You two got into a heated fight after a hunt. He had jumped in front of you when the shifter shot at you. A bullet had skimmed his side. 

You had lectured him the entire time you sewed up his side. He had left to get food but he lied and went back to the bunker. 

To say you were mad was an understatement. You were livid. He left you in a different state and took the fucking car. You had your wallet and phone in the car because you thought he would come back. 

When no one answered the door, you tried the handle and it was unlocked. You pushed the metal door open and stormed down the stairs. 

“Samuel Winchester!” You yelled as you stormed down the stairs. Sam walked around the corner with a beer in his hand and you walked towards him.

“Hey, Y/n. Listen I-” He started to say, but you punched him in the nose. His head snapped back and he covered his nose with his hand, as it started bleeding. “Okay, I deserved that.” He groaned as he held his nose. 

“You dumb son of a bitch!” You exclaimed and shoved him back by his chest. 

“I know what I did. I’m sorry.” He rambled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re sorry?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You left me in Nevada! I had no money, no phone! I had to hitchhike until I found Cas in Colorado and he gave me a ride here! If you ever do that again so help me, Chuck, I’ll leave!” You threatened, and his eyes widened. “I’ll pack up my shit and walk out that door and never come back.” You said, your voice dangerously low. 

“I am so sorry, Y/n/n. There is no excuse for what I did.” He stated, and you crossed your arms. 

“You’re damn right there isn’t!” You yelled, “Not only did I hitchhike! It started fucking raining! My clothes were soaked! And I was in a white t-shirt! So some creep offered to give me a ride! When I declined, he got out of the fucking car and tried to drag me into his murder van! I had to knock him out and run! So you can take your sorrys’ and go fuck yourself!” You spat and stormed off to the bathroom of the bunker. 

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You laid in your shared bed after getting a shower and changing in one of Sam’s shirts and a pair of panties. You sniffled trying to keep your tears at bay. 

Why’d he leave you there? You get that he was pissed but why? He fucking took a bullet for you. If anything you should be pissed, but you missed him. It took you about a week to get home and you just wanted to cuddle with him. Make sure his stitches were intact. Make sure he was okay. 

You cuddled his pillow closer to your chest as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. You just didn’t want to be alone.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when someone knocked on the door. You ignored it, as the door opened. You didn’t look. 

You felt Sam crawl into bed behind you. He gently wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck. You quietly sighed happily and cuddled into him. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t in my right mind. I regretted it as soon as I got to the bunker. I went back to the motel in Nevada but the clerk said you left. I was so worried about you.” He whispered against your skin, as he placed kisses on your neck. You turned around in his arms to face him. 

“I love you so much, Sammy.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you so you were flushed against him. 

“I love you too, Y/n/n.” He said and leaned down to capture your lips. You kissed back immediately and your hands went to his hair, as his hands went to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded your ass and you quietly moaned against his lips. 

“I missed you.” You mumbled and reached down to the hem of his shirt. He pulled away from the kiss and you pulled his shirt over his head. Then he leaned down and caught your lips again. 

“Me too. I’m still so sorry.” He muttered against your lips and reached down to slip a hand into your panties. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers circled your clit. You used your hands to pull your shirt off, freeing your breasts. He immediately latched onto your nipple and sucked and nipped. You arched your back as your jaw dropped. He thrusted a thick finger into your wet heat as he bit down on your nipple.

“Oh, god. I gonna cum.” You moaned as he added another finger into you. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you as he crooked them up.

“I wanna feel you soak my fingers. Go ahead.” He grunted as he felt your walls clamp down his fingers. He latched back onto your nipple and ground his palm against your clit. You cried out his name as you came around his fingers. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your high. He pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them. “So good.” He moaned around his digits, as he tasted your juices on his fingers. 

“Please, fuck me, Sammy.” You whined and wrapped your legs around his waist to grind against his groin. 

“So needy.” He smirked and pulled down his boxers, and his hard cock slapped his taut stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick cock. 

He gripped the sides of your panties and ripped them off. You gasped at the sudden movement then mewled when his cock ran up and down your dripping slit. 

“Please.” You pleaded, and he captured your lips in a passionate kiss and slammed his cock into your tight walls. You cried out and arched your back at the sudden feeling of being filled. Your walls fluttered around him stretching to his girth. 

“You’re so tight, sweetheart.” He groaned and pulled his hips back till just the tip was in you, then slammed his length back into you. 

You keened and he rolled you onto your back so he was hovering over you. Your fingers threaded through his soft hair and brought his lips down to yours. 

God, how much you missed this. He was so sweet and loving during sex, even if it was rough. He made sure that you were getting all the pleasure. You loved him so much. It made your heartache. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he started thrusting into you slow and hard. He hit your g-spot with every thrust, edging you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

You looked into his hazel eyes. They were so full of love and lust and it made your pussy clench. He pressed the occasional kiss to your lips as his hips moved against yours. 

“I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, and he slightly smiled and picked up his speed a bit. One of his hands reached down to rub circles on your clit, as his cock brushed over your g-spot. “Oh, Sammy!” You screamed as you fell over the edge. Your walls spasmed and clenched around his length as your orgasm washed over you. 

“God, you’re squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna cum.” He grunted, “Gonna fill you up. Do you want that? Me filling you up until you leak?”

“Please, please.” You moaned, and he bit down on your neck as he reached his high. His cock spurted thick ropes of warm cum in your walls. He slowly rolled on his back with you on his lap. You slumped against his body, worn out. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered and brushed a piece of your hair over your shoulder. You rested your head against his chest as he pulled the duvet over you two. 

“I love you too, Sammy.” You smiled, and closed your eyes, and cuddled up against him. You two fell asleep with smiles on your faces. Happy that you two were able to make up.

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Taglist: 

@honeyel​ @greeneyedblondie44​

[ltleflrt]

Do you think bottom!Dean is more popular because he looks more feminine than Castiel? Or has the popularity only grown recently, as a reaction to bottom!Cas being more frequent years ago? /Me trying to make sense of fandom trends

Good morning!

I'm not sure why it's a fandom wide thing, but I'll be happy to explain my reasons for my slight preference for bottom!Dean. I say slight, because I am TEAM SWITCH, but if I had to choose one for the rest of my life, I do lean slightly toward Dean lol

For me it's not that he looks more feminine, because despite the pretty pink lips and long eyelashes, that bastard is manly man as fuck. And by the time Castiel popped up in the show, a lot of his twinkiness had melted away. I'm tellin' ya, 30-ish is when that man became ripe lol

I do think that he's often feminized because of the panty thing, but that's a slightly different subject than top/bottom preferences, and my thoughts on that are simple. Panties=Girly. That's not how it works, but fandom often takes 1 character quirk and blows it out of proportion. Like in Dragon Age, Alistair mentions cheese once, and in fandom it's his religious obsession. It's just a thing fandom does.

When Castiel first showed up on the scene, he had that huge coat and suit, and it made him look somewhat waifish. He looks small next to Sam and Dean simply because they're huge bastards. And that has led to him being feminized a lot too, I think.

I actively joined fandom just after the end of season 7. At the time, bottom!Cas seemed to dominate the fic landscape. I liked it a lot, but I started searching for, and eventually writing bottom!dean fics because it was a novel experience. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm not the only one who did that. But Season 7-8 was a loooong time ago, and the pendulum has not swung back. It's much harder now to find bottom!Cas fics, and I would think that if the reason bottom!Dean rose to prominence was because of a craving for something different, we'd see the trends float back and forth over time. It seems to me like bottom!Dean only grows more popular year over year.

I still have a preference for Dean myself because I don't like the way people write Cas when it's his turn. The bottom partner is often overly-feminized in any pairing, but I feel like I see it more with Cas. In a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable. And I'm not talking, like.... panties and makeup kinda stuff. As far as I'm concerned, a manly man putting on something traditionally worn by women just makes him more masculine, unless that person is trans, in which case a switch flips in my brain and they're just a woman now lol... it's almost like when Cas is feminized, it's more of a personality thing. Often to the point where I think they may have just written fem!Cas.

I dunno if I'm explaining it well. It has less to do with Cas bottoming or topping, and it's more of an OOC issue.

I would really like for the fandom's pendulum to swing back to bottom!Cas for a while, but not if he feels so OOC all the time, ya know?

And maybe characterization is a big part of it. In Canon, we have Dean The Caretaker, Dean the Emotional Beacon, Dean the Sensitive One. He is Father And Mother, and so it doesn't seem strange to see him take on more feminine roles in stories, because he's like that in canon. Castiel is The Warrior Of God, and The Shield, and Jack's Father, etc. It feels out of place for him to be feminized.

Anyway, I dunno if anyone else feels like that, but it's how I feel about the characterization. And since fandom likes to assign Top and Bottom roles based on who gets to be The Girl in the relationship, then butt stuff preferences affect characterization.

Anyway, one last point for my preferences for bottom!Dean. There's an emotional vulnerability to bottoming. As a woman, and as someone who's had anal sex (sorry for the tmi lol), I know just how vulnerable that position is, no matter how much of a take charge kinda person you are. And I like seeing Dean let down his walls and be vulnerable. Do I think he can do it while topping too? Hell yes. But I think that's more difficult to do, and writers, myself included, take the easier path and just make him the bottom as a metaphor for letting oneself be open to the love people want to give :D

[carnationworld-writings]

Constant craving (Caspian x fem!reader)

MASTERLIST

Paring: Prince Caspian x fem!reader

Universe: The Chronicles of Narnia

Word Count: 1007

Warnings: Very poor written introduction to smut scene. 

Summary: The one where coldness bring them closer to each other.

It was one of the coldest days of the year, but it didn't stop Y/N from going for a walk in the royal gardens. She loved how that place looked covered in snow. She wore her thickest coat and gloves and asked her ladies-in-waiting to wait for her in the castle since she knew that they hate cold. She walked around her favourite places with a big smile, greeting every person she met. She sat at an arbour near the lake and watched everything around her. She didn't know how much time she spent there when she heard footsteps on snow. She turned to look at the incoming person, and she smiled when she saw Caspian. "Y/N, what are you doing here? It's freezing!" "I just wanted to sit here a little." She laughed softly, watching how he sat next to her, placing a blanket on their legs. "Thank you." She touched his arm softly. "I couldn't let my Queen freeze to death." He chucked, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. She looked up and kissed his lips softly. He moved one hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him. His other hand slowly snuck to her cheek, which he delicately caressed. He frowned a little when she shuddered and gasped. She looked at him with big eyes. "Where do you have your gloves?!" She screamed at him, taking off her own and holding his hands in hers. She began to rub them delicately, to warm them up. She brought his hands to her lips, placing a soft kiss on each knuckle. "You silly… You brought a blanket for me, but it's you who will end as an icicle." "My love for you warms me enough to not freeze." She began to laugh, watching his sweet smile.  She kissed him softly, holding his hands close to her body. "Come, you need something hot to drink and a hot bath." She got up, still holding his hand. When Caspian stood next to her, he moved his hand to the small of her back. They walked around gardens for a few minutes, getting closer to the castle. When they walked into their chambers, Y/N asked one of the maids for tea and prepared a bath for the king. She took off her gloves and smiled when she felt Caspian's hands on her hips and later a soft kiss on her cheek. "Let me help you, my love," Caspian whispered near her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. His hands moved to the buttons of her coat. He undid them, placing small kisses on her neck. "Cas… someone may walk in." "Then they'll see a loving husband who cherishes his stunning wife." "Aren't you a sweet talker?" Y/N giggled, feeling his hands on her arms, slowly taking off her coat. She bit her bottom lip to stop a moan, feeling his teeth on her skin. She saw how he threw her cloak on their bed and moved his hands along her body. He stopped when he heard a knock on the door. "Your majesties, the bath is ready." "Thank you, Emel. Could you tell my secretary that the queen and I won't be available for the rest of the day? And after you bring the tea, all of you can go rest. If we need something, we will find someone." "Of course, your majesty." When the door closed behind her, Caspian turned his wife to face him. He saw her flirty smile, and he squeezed her hips lightly. He lowered his head and stopped when his lips were just a few centimetres from hers. He couldn't help the smile that went to his face when he saw how Y/N parted her lips, trying to get closer to him. "Will you accompany me in the bath, my dear?" "I'll be honoured, my king." she breathed out, pulling him closer and finally connecting their lips. Caspian moaned softly, tightening his hold on her hips. Slowly, he lowered his hands on her body and quickly lifted her. She squeaked on his mouth, making him chuckle. He put her down when they reached the bathroom,  and he slowly started undoing the corset of her dress. He took his time with this task. He placed soft kisses on every newly exposed piece of her skin. When she was left only in her underwear, she stopped him and started taking off his clothes. "You sure we need a bath, love?" He chuckled, watching how feverishly she helped him take off his shirt. "We cannot waste the hard work of our subjects. And also... It's not good to waste so much water, my dear." They stripped off their remnants of their clothes, and Caspian entered the bathtub first. He watched how Y/N's body moved when he helped her carefully join him. Just a second after she was next to him, she again connected their lips. She felt his hands caressing her body. She moaned when he put them on her breast and then when he moved his lips on her jaw, placing wet kisses upon her throat to collarbone. She felt his hardening cock against her thigh. She moved her hips to stroke his slightly and smiled when she heard his low moan. They spend a lot of time exploring each other's bodies. They didn't care that water became cold and too much of it for their liking ended up on the floor. They didn't care about moans and groans that left their throats. The only thing they could think about was how to please the person they loved and how to reach their own high. Little did they know that a few of the young maids heard them, walking down the corridor. All of them giggled with flushed faces when they spread the news to their friends. And when they were caught talking about this, they were rebuked by older women. But even they exchanged meaningful smiles and silently prayed about an heir.  

***

Author’s note: I’m calmed down after yesterdays night, but it still hurt that I can’t take that course. Also, I’m sorry about this fic... I know that it’s not the best I could write, but I hope you understand... Take care of yourself and have a nice day! 

Thank you for reading! Please, let me know what are you thinking about this one! Your comment means a world for me and motivates me to work! Also, taglist is open! If you want to be added just let me know! In advance, I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia  💜

***

Caspian taglist: @emilyhlennox  @live-love-loki @effielumiere​ 

(I would be very grateful if one of you could tell me if tags are working.💜 )

[spiderling-space]

Cater is so underrated! Could you do a yandere Cater fic where a fem!MC is already dating him and they’re having an intimate moment (kissing) when she decides to break up with him and he keeps trying to get her to stay (he’s desperate). He wasn’t a yandere until she decided to leave. I hope this is an okay request! Slight nsfw if you’re willing!

I don't know why but writing Cater as yandere was way harder than Kalim.

Achievement unlocked: You made your boyfriend go yandere

Italics indicate thoughts

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Cater Diamond

Warning: Yandere behaviour, toxic relationship

You can do this, (Y/N)! (Y/N) was giving herself confidence-boosting phrases as she firmly made her way to Cater, her boyfriend, well, soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He was taking selfies when she arrived at his side. He greeted her with a kiss on the lips after he was done with selfies. She couldn't find it in her heart to return the kiss. To get out of the situation and get his attention, she gingerly patted his shoulder. Lady luck must have been on her side as he withdrew the next second.

"No kissy today?" Cater asked with a cheerful attitude. He didn't even wait for her response before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pressing their cheeks together, and making a peace sign with his hand. "Say cheese!" She force smiled at the camera instinctively as she grew accustomed to Cater's sudden selfie moments. He took a few selfies and retreated his arm to select the best one in his standards.

"Cater, we need to talk."

"Hmm hmm," Her request, once again, fell into deaf ears as he didn't even acknowledge it. "Just a moment babe, I'm posting our picture #CutestCouple #Sweethearts #CantGetEnoughOfEachOther #Ca(Y/N) #(Y/N)ter"

Oh shit!

(Y/N) launched at his phone before he could post it, being grateful that he was "You need to listen to me before you post it." Only interrupting him posting on Magicam would get his attention since it was all he cared about. “I don’t think this,” she motioned herself and Cater, “... is working out.”

“Huh? What are you saying?” He looked confused, looking at her intently while he was reaching to get his phone back.

“I asked you to meet because I want to break up. It would be better to do it in person." She felt relief wash over her after she told him what she was holding back for the last 2 weeks. "I just ca-"

"That is not cute, totally not Magigrammable." (Y/N) assumed he didn't process what she had told yet considering he was standing in front of her with a blank expression.

"You are amazing and I had such a great time with you. I thought I would be fine with you posting every moment we have on Magicam but I am not." It is better to be straightforward than to beat around the bush. He is going to understand me, I'm sure of it.

"I want people to see how cute we look, (Y/N). Why wouldn't you like it?" He was trying to bargain with her, completely ignoring what she had just said.

"You are too focused on being cute and showing it off to everyone and expecting validation for it but you don't live the moment from my point of view. It is not something I can handle. It just encumbers me." (Y/N) put her hands on his biceps gently, making eye contact so he would see her genuineness. She didn't want to hurt his feelings but the reality was better than living a lie. "I can't expect you to change or force to be different than you already are. It is best if we part ways as a friend. I'm sure there is someone out there who would love every side of you." She let her arms fall to her sides, slightly patting on her thighs as she awaited his response. He was far too silent than usual. She just hoped he accepted her reasoning as a mature person would and now was pondering a way to react.

"That's not going to work." Thank goodness, he understood! "My followers adore our pictures together. They get the most likes! We can't break up!" Damn it, I spoke too soon. (Y/N) was about to reason with him but he suddenly grabbed her arm. "You can't break up with me!" She had never seen his eyes blazing with anger, and it was a sight she ought to not see.

(Y/N) was wriggling to be free of his grip but he was squeezing her arm more and more as she continued her struggle. "You are hurting me!" She grabbed his hand on her, digging her nails on his skin so that he would let her go out of pain.

"I'm hurting you?" Cater ignored her plea as if it meant nothing to him. "You are the one who is hurting me! Are you trying to make me lose followers? Do you want people to dislike me? Is that your goal?"

She stopped her strife momentarily, too shocked to hear what he had said. "Wh-what... What does that have anything to do with how I feel about our relationship?!" He was being too self-centered at the moment, only caring about how he felt. "Listen, I want to remain as friends. We can take occasional pictures together that you can post on Magicam but I gotta go my own way, Cater." She wanted to bite his hand and kick him in the sack but she wagered it would be worse if she pushed forward so she decided to take a passive approach.

"Is that your way of pitying me? You are just like my sisters. So cruel, thinking yourself better than me, taking the best thing from me, and expecting me to be content with the scraps." He let her go abruptly, making her lose her balance and fall on her butt. "But you aren't a cruel person, are you?" He knelt on her level, lifting her head from her chin with his hand. "We aren't going to break up. That is just a silly joke you made."

Was he always delusional? (Y/N) tried to sing his tune but it didn't work. She hastily swatted his hand away. "I thought he would stay as friends but clearly you are too deranged for it!"

When she tried to get up, Cater pushed her back. "I believe you would prefer to continue dating me." He was too calm as he uttered those words while twirling the end of his hair strand with a snide smile on his face.

What the fuck is he on? He better gives me the number of his dealer! "Were you not listening to me?!" The more this drew out the more she got irritated. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He just smiled at her remark. "I suppose plenty of things but now isn't the time for me. It is the time for you." He unlocked his phone and scrolled through something. He chuckled when she assumed he found what he was looking for. "You would prefer to date me than seeing what I have to be shared on Magicam and for everyone to talk about it." He had a chesire smile as he closed his eyes and waited for her response.

The gears turned on her mind as she understood what he was talking about. She couldn't help but laugh, it was such a weak threat for her to continue dating him. "If you think I'll still be with you because you would share my nudes and you're in for a ride. The moment you share them or are involved in their distribution, my lawyer will call you." She was certain that he would cut the crap now.

Instead of him falling out of his act, he let out a burst of loud laughter. He then turned to face her once more, bopping her nose. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I put myself at that type of risk? It would ruin my life more than yours." He chuckled, giving her the most devilish look. "I know what you did last summer."

Huh?

(Y/N)'s heart started to pound in her chest. She was panicking, her breathing was getting hitched but she kept quiet this long and she wasn't going to quit the act now. "Nothing besides having fun." Her voice cracked as she spoke, her nerves getting to her.

"I bet you did. Especially with your high school friends. Did all of you agree to never speak of what happened last summer?" He was calm as if he was talking about weather instead of her secret.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She was convinced that he would drop the topic if she persisted to deny it.

"Oh?" He feigned surprise before turning his phone towards her so that she could see what was on the screen. Her breathing stopped and her eyes widened the second her eyes laid upon what was on Cater's phone. How did he learn about that? How did he get that video?

(Y/N) gulped, trying to collect any courage left. "H-h-h-how?" Her mind was racing, trying to find an escape from the situation but failing amazingly.

Cater just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if this was a regular thing for him. "I know a lot of things about everyone. Perks of knowing many people and having a broad network, I say. I have everything to know everything about my girlfriend, don't you think?" He didn't expect her to answer. Even if he did, what could she say? She just remained silent and she tried to process everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. He seated beside her on the grass. He took her right arm and put it around his shoulders. Her arms were limp, not having enough energy to fight back. He inched even closer and wrapped his left arm around her waist. They must have looked like a loving couple from outside while in actuality, one of them was a psycho who just threatened his girlfriend into dating him and the other one was a murderer who kept quiet even though it was just an accident.

Cater looked at her, stroking her face as a lover would. "Now be a good girl and wipe that terrified expression off your face. That's not Magigrammable unless it is Halloween time." He closed the video and opened the camera on his phone, holding it up for another selfie. "Smile for the camera." (Y/N) couldn't even bring herself to fake-smile. She was just looking at his phone with a blank expression. Cater must have seen it too since he pouted after looking at the pictures he took but he didn't fret about it, instead, he moved forward. "Now kiss me. Lovers kissing always gets more attention." (Y/N) turned towards him and leaned to kiss him as he took pictures. After he ended the kiss, he simply turned his attention to his phone. "This is going to get so many likes, (Y/N). See what happens when you stay with me?"

She only nodded in response, not wanting to talk. As Cater was adding tags to their picture, (Y/N) was left alone with her thoughts.

I deserve this. I shouldn't have agreed to stay silent last summer. Now not only I have to live with its guilt but also have to obey everything Cater says if I want to live free. But will I be truly free with Cater?

-------

If someone is threatening you to share your intimate photos, don't bend to their will. You can take legal action which can result in you receiving indemnity from intangible damage caused by them and they can get jail time for the distribution of sensitive personal data (I am unsure of the actual term in English). Just know your rights and don't stay silent.

I love "I know what you did last summer". It is one of my favorite horror movies of all time. I highly suggest it.