#it started as fem cas for a fic I was writing
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mischieviem · 4 months ago
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Lesbeams
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bigtreefest · 9 months ago
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Chapter 1: Digging For Gold
From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series
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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.
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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>
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babydollfoster · 1 year ago
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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)
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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.”
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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?
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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.
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taglist: no one yet! ask away :)
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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 2 years ago
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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. 
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dauntless-gothamite · 2 years ago
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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
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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. 
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cas-skz · 2 years ago
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Work Pleasures
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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.
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nerdycrusadecomputer · 2 years ago
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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
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(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!!!
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arizona2004 · 3 years ago
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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.”
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meganlpie · 2 years ago
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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.
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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​
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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago
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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~
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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.
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severusish · 3 years ago
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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.
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the-queen-of-hell-666 · 3 years ago
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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!
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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​
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ltleflrt · 3 years ago
Note
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
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carnationworld-writings · 4 years ago
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Constant craving (Caspian x fem!reader)
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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.💜 )
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spiderling-space · 4 years ago
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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.
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robincantfunction · 3 years ago
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Hi! Can I request an Alex from Julie and the phantoms x fem! reader, where Alex and y/n are best friends with the prompt number 20 “have you seen my- hoodie… and you’re wearing it” please?
ALEX AND THE READER ARE JUST FRIENDS IN THIS FANFIC. IM SORRY FOR ANY CONFUSION, AND IM VERY SORRY IF I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE <3
wow posting a fic more than twice a week? who is she?
requested: yes/no (requests are open)
warnings: fem!reader, like one swear word, a suggestive comment (lemme know if i missed any)
summary: the band are writing a song in the garage (the song i used is the ramblings of a lunatic)
a/n: thank you for the request!! i have to admit writers block really got me good for this, but i love alex so much!! this is kinda just a band x reader with an implied luke x reader (i hope that's ok!) but i kept the alex x reader aspect for the hoodie part :) sorry it took so long!!
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they were all sitting down in the 'studio' as luke calls it, luke and y/n writing random lyrics in their notebooks whilst reggie mindlessly strumming his bass, alex was balancing his drum sticks on his nose and bobby was late. as always. y/n wrote as she hummed to herself, trying to come up with a rhythm.
I'm setting pen to paper again Lost my sense of home from the words that I've said But the thoughts have begun to ferment in my head And content manifest don't feel good enough for them
"have either of you got anything?" she looked up at reggie "possibly, writing a brand new song for just a few days time is a lot of pressure i have to admit" luke nodded. the two had been nonstop writing for what felt like forever, trying to create their best song yet.
So I Try and transcend my ego But don't we know It will never work Maybe I'll just descend to dirt Flirt with becoming food for worms
"well you two never dissapoint, i'm sure we'll get there" alex looked at her, to make sure she was ok. y/n got stressed easily, and was hard on herself and the lyrics she'd create. she nodded at him and the silent communication was understood. "i think i have some decent lyrics, but it really will need a good tune to go along with it, reg - alex?" their song writing process was always different depending on the situation. most of the time luke and or y/n would have a song practically done, chords in mind aswell, and then the others would build off it and add to it. but in desperate situations like this, y/n and luke would be on lyrics and reg, alex and bobby (when he turned up) would try and create a killer beat.
Would anyone listen to this The ramblings of a lunatic My mind does play an awful trick The ramblings of a lunatic Would anyone listen to this I'm running from my emptiness My brain is tired, my stomach sick The ramblings of a lunatic
in the background she could faintly hear a bass playing, and subtle taps on the drums. but when she was in the zone, when she got an idea, it was like the whole world went fuzzy, and all she could hear was the lyrics forming themselves.
Why has constructing sentences become like pulling teeth Wiping dental records clean Is the carcass even me? Is This catharsis Therapeutic plunge to darkness Or elaborating upon my mediocrity
as the door to the garage opened she got taken out of her trance. "hey guys, sorry i'm late-" "-i was just making out with cassie" she muttered, thinking no one else heard, but clearly luke did as he tried to stifle a laugh, ending up just covering it up with a cough. "i was with cas and lost track of time" y/n rolled her eyes "oh yeah no totally, we get it you were busy. might wanna button your shirt up properly though" this time it was everyone except bobby struggled to maintain their laughter. his face fell in embarrassed, that was a look she wouldn't forget for a long time. "seriously bobby it's fine" she smiled, although under her breath she mumbled "not like we're trying to write a song for the orpheum or anything". it started getting cold in the studio, so she got up and walked to alex's bag, knowing he'd have a spare hoodie she could nab.
Maybe this is a result Of me finally accepting That I'll be alone forever That I deserve forgetting It's a pointless endeavour And maybe it's upsetting But I've never felt more comfortable In the concept of things ending
she kept writing, although now very aware of her surroundings. after some time she noticed alex looking in his bag puzzled "have any of you seen my-" he looked up at y/n chuckling a little "hoodie... and y/n is wearing it" she smiled cheekily "sorry, did you want it back?" he shook his head "na it's ok don't worry. i was looking for pen and noticed it wasn't in there, thought i lost it" everyone chuckled slightly at the two. luke leaned over to say something only y/n could hear "looks better on you anyway" she blushed slightly, luke and her always had a flirty friendship. "ewww they're gonna fuck in a second- look he's undressing her with his eyes." alex deadpanned, making the entire group laugh, they always joked about luke and alex, but nothing had come of it yet.
Would anyone listen to this The ramblings of a lunatic My mind does play an awful trick The ramblings of a lunatic Would anyone listen to this I'm running from my emptiness My brain is tired, my stomach sick The ramblings of a lunatic
"y/n are you nearly finished with the lyrics? i think i might have something but i'll need to check to see if it goes with the style and stuff of the lyrics" she nodded, getting back to writing "yeah just gimme like 2 seconds"
Maybe this writer's block that I've been perceiving Is to stop me diving deeply into my internal being And falling into darkness below my surface tension Emotional suppression my coping mechanism 'Cause all my friends are dying, some faster than the others Lungs filling up with fluid, place face under the covers 'Cause all my friends are dying, some faster than the others I'm trying to distract myself from the fears that I've discovered
"honestly though can you guys believe it? we're actually gonna play at the orpheum! we're gonna be legends" luke was already hyping them all up "that's if this doesn't suck butt hole, and if i'm honest i'm not convinced" they all rolled their eyes "shut up y/n/n. you're thebest songwriter i know" luke smiled at her "yeah! just believe in yourself man! what's it about?" alex asked, already curious of the meaning behind the song without even hearing it "writer's block. and how i can ramble when i really need an idea. and other stuff i guess"
Would anyone listen to this The ramblings of a lunatic My mind does play an awful trick The ramblings of a lunatic Would anyone listen to this I'm running from my emptiness My brain is tired, my stomach sick The ramblings of a lunatic
Would anyone listen to this The ramblings of a lunatic My mind does play an awful trick The ramblings of a lunatic Would anyone listen to this I'm running from my emptiness My brain is tired, my stomach sick The ramblings of a lunatic
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