#like imagine she hears sam’s name and is like

[cas-coding]

what if i wrote a heartbreaking trans!dean fic where mary doesn’t recognize dean at first. what then

[buckyalpine]

Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…

She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵

ABSOLUTELY.

I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.

He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.

He fucks.

A lot.

Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.

There's just one issue.

The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.

That's just Bucky.

That's Bucky with everyone else.

Then there's Bucky with you.

The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.

He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.

Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.

She can't stand it.

At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.

"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"

"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"

"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"

She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.

Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.

She'd do anything to get rid of you.

She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.

"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.

"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.

It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.

That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.

At this point she didn't care about what it took.

She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.

So she took a more direct approach.

"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.

How did she know?!"

"I-I don't-

"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.

"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.

"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.

From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.

Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.

Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.

She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.

She'd do anything to end all of this.

Including hurt you.

-

You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.

You felt even worse.

You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.

"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.

"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-

She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.

"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.

"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.

"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.

"SHARON"

Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

"Bucky, we were just-

"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.

"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"

"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"

Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.

"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.

"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.

Did you think he'd just use you for one night?

He would never.

He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.

If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.

You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.

"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"

"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.

"What do you mean y/n"

"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-

"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"

You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.

"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.

"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"

Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.

"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"

"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"

[auroralwriting]

jealousy, jealousy

bucky barnes x avenger!reader (no use of y/n)

bucky hates when his girl has to flirt with the enemy

word count: 1.5k | warnings: none

The whole idea of it was absolutely, utterly stupid.

Zemo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious when he couldn't leave your name out of his mouth during the whole Sokovia Accords issue. Now, he was up to no good once more after escaping prison, leaving the Avengers no choice but to find out what he was up to.

The only problem? He refused to speak. Well, he refused to speak unless it was with you.

Bucky felt rage creep up his whole body when Steve explained what you had to do. You had to actually pretend to be interested in every single word Zemo said, meaning even if he flirted, you had to just take it. Apparently, this genius idea was Tony's, and the rest of the team had agreed to it, meaning Bucky's opinion was next to worthless, especially when you already agreed.

He trusted you with every ounce of his being, and he knew you wouldn't do it if you couldn't handle it, but he hate the fact that Zemo was probably going to flirt your ear off. You were Bucky's girl, his doll, his special girl, his everything, not Zemo's.

Nonetheless, Bucly had to hold his tongue and silently nod as Steve explained.

"What're you thinking, Buck?" Steve asked, noticing Bucky's silent deminor.

"I'm thinking about how many ways I could murder Zemo," Bucky commented, eyes darkening.

Steve sighed, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder, "Bucky, she said she could do this."

"It's not her I don't trust, Steve. Imagine your girl getting hit on and you couldn't do jack shit to stop it. How would you feel then?" Bucky seethed, taking a deep breath in. "Sorry, that was hostile."

With a shake of his head, Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "I understand, Bucky. But we have to get to the bottom of Zemo's plan, and he won't talk unless its to her."

The whole team sat in silence, now gathered in the meeting room. The only noise was the whirl of the fan above their heads as they watched the live footage of you standing in front of Zemo's cell.

"Zemo," You said, crossing your arms. "Being stubborn as always, I hear."

A crooked smile formed on the man's face as he leaned his head on the bars, as close to you as he could get. "Darling, I just did not wish to speak to such insolent people such as the Avengers," Zemo scowled as he spoke. "But a dove as sweet as you? How could I pass?"

Bucky felt his fists clench tightly as he watched the interaction. God, he just wanted to deck this guy straight in the nose. Ever since the Sokovian first went on the run, he always seemed to make some time mid-battle to try and make some small talk with you. It annoyed not only Bucky, but everyone. No one talks that much during a fight. However, now that he was captured, it was the perfect time to use his infatuation of you to the team's advantage.

"Tell me, what do you have planned with those," You paused, grabbing your file and flipping through the loose pages, "Ah, 'weapons of double mass extinction' as you so delicately put it."

Zemo laughed, "Extinction is not my end goal if that is what you are asking my dove."

"It wasn't," You added as Zemo continued.

"However, I am just so excited to reveal what they will be used for." He smiled. Your brow shot up, waiting for his answer. "But seeing it will be the best reveal of all."

Sam sighed, watching this all carry on from where the team was still sat. "He's just gonna play games with her."

"She's smarter than you'd think, give her a chance." Natasha said, "I'd know, I trained her."

Tony stood up, "I don't like this, I'm ending it."

Bucky held up his hand, nodding. "For once, I gotta agree with Stark. I want my girl out of his sight."

Quickly, Steve stood up, "This is our only chance to find out what Zemo has planned. He won't lay a finger on her. Is it uncomfortable? Of course it is, none of us enjoy watching him flirt with her, but it'll work." Tony sat down as Bucky grumbled, all eyes falling back to the screen that showed you now closer to Zemo's bars.

"Would your wife really enjoy knowing you're flirting with me?" You slightly taunted, wanting to push his buttons.

"My wife is dead, but you already know of this." Zemo replied.

With a knowing nod, you pursed your lips, "She was Sokovian too, yeah?"

"We were all from Sokovia, my wife and son, as well as myself." Zemo answered.

"Born and raised?" You continued. Zemo gave a nod as you thought for a moment with a hum, "Were you there when Ultron attacked?"

Zemo nodded, "Yes. That is when my family was murdered."

"I'm sorry," You honestly replied. "Does it still bother you? Not your dead family, but the Sokovia thing. You know, the floating?"

A quick glance of the situation, and it would've looked like you were now just chatting with the enemy, but you held down a smirk as Zemo replied. "Of course I am. That was my home."

"New York could be your home now," You offered. "Turn yourself in and we can get you transferred here."

Zemo laughed, "I would not wish to be here after what will happen."

Boom. You looked up to the camera, "You all got that?" You asked the camera, knowing your team was watching. You grabbed your file, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Zemo. This was very informative." You grabbed your comm and pushed it down, "Stand-by. Send Stark-Bots to check perimeters of the state. Zemo's planning on making us levitate like Sokovia."

Face pale, Zemo stood up, yelling incoherent words that fell upon your deaf ears as you left the room. Bucky, who had seen it all, was already waiting for you outside. He was quick to grab you and hold you tight to his chest.

"I'm okay, Buck," You smiled, voice muffled from your face being pushed against his strong body.

Bucky shook his head, "I know, I just don't want you near that freak again."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words as you pulled away enough to give him a kiss. "You jealous of Zemo?"

"You played into it," Bucky muttered.

"It was all fake, love." You replied. "You know I'm your girl."

Bucky couldn't help but smirk, "Damn right you are." He turned to the door that lead to Zemo's cell. "You hear that? She's my damn girl!"

You couldn't help but feel your heart thump at Bucky's words. He was always so damn hot when he was jealous. "C'mon, show your girl how much you love her." You teased, Bucky's eyes falling on you once more. He was quick to grab your waist with his metal arm, pulling you in as his other hand rested on the back of your neck, pushing your face against his as his lips locked with yours, a tight, sloppy kiss ensuing in the middle of the hall.

"I'm never letting you do that again." Bucky muttered, pulling away to speak. His breath was hot on your cheek as he spoke. He pulled you into another wet kiss as a soft ahem came from behind you both.

"This is not a room, but I'm sure your horny asses could find one."

Bucky groaned as he turned around, "Do you have to ruin every moment?" He asked Sam who stood smugly.

He put his hands in the air, "I just wanted to congratulate Nat's best student on her great work. Especially the one where she made her soldier get all jealous"

"Thank you, Sam," You smiled, a light blush on your face.

Bucky took a pen out of his pocket and threw it at Sam, "Get outta here, man!"

"Alright, alright! No need for hostility." Sam defended as he walked away.

As Sam left, you gave a knowing smile at Bucky. "So jealous over my mission, huh?"

Bucky scoffed, feeling embarrassment creep in his chest, "I wasn't jealous."

"I think you were," You argued. "Over Zemo of all peopke."

"Only I can talk to you that way," Bucky said, voice nearly a whine. "You're all mine, not his or anyone else's, and he knows it."

You smiled, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek, "And that's probably why he loves doing it so much. You know he's got a thing against super soldiers. He's gonna do anything to get under your skin."

"And he chose the worst way to do it," Bucky muttered as you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

Bucky looked at you with a goofy smile, pulling back. "C'mon, doll. We still got some work to do cleaning up Zemo's mess."

"Someone's feeling better," You teased as you both began to walk. "You'd better show me some more of that jealousy later," You suggested.

"Oh, I will," Bucky smiled. "You bet your fine ass I will."

[hanafubukki]

Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

[anakinsdove]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x shy!girlygirl!fem!reader

summary: sam can’t seem to get hard, he also can’t stand you, but he needs your help.

c/w: nsfw, fluff, friends to lovers, sam pretends not to like reader but they’re actually friends, handjob, makeout session, overstimulation, unintentional dacryphilia? reader doesn’t know she has that kink, also sam is mean and reader is kinda innocent if not naive.

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 𝟮,𝟮𝟱𝟴.

Sam stroked his cock lazily, laying on his messy bed while “Paranoid” from Black Sabbath played from his stereo volume insanely loud, he stared at the ceiling eyes wide open. To say he was frustrated was an understatement, he’s been stroking his cock for the past 45 minutes and he can’t even get hard yet, he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, “fuck!” He yells in frustration, he watched every single porn tape he owned and couldn’t even pop a boner, from time to time he looks beside him to the porn magazine, hes just not focused, not even his imagination can help him… it’s been like this for the past week. Maybe it finally happened, his cock doesn’t work anymore and he’s still a virgin, he’s pathetic.

Weed doesn’t work, porn doesn’t work, imagination doesn’t work and he’s not lucky enough to get action, the only thing worse than not being able to get hard himself is not being able to get hard with another girl, he would rather kill himself. His wrist aches and he cries out in frustration, he’s so needy, and he’s sweating, it’s so unfair…. he doesn’t hear you knocking on his window.

“sam!” you been calling his name for the past two minutes but it felt like an eternity for your antsy little ass, he’ll kill you if you go inside without his permission, you don’t understand what his deal is when not letting people go inside he’s too dramatic you think “sam!” you call again, now you’re starting to get impatient so you decide to open his balcony door and get inside.

Sam cringes at sunlight and cries out “get out!” throwing at you the porn magazine beside his head as he quickly covers himself with the sheets�� what the fuck?

“What is this?” you ask curiously as you kneel to pick up the magazine your eyes instantly landing on the woman with big tits “Turn around!” Sam yells furiously, you do as he says and quickly puts on a pair of boxers, when he realizes you’re still flicking through his magazine, he walks over and takes it right out of your hands, you don’t say anything only look up at him with doe eyes… sam looks away.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask with that sweet and calm voice of yours, exactly the opposite of Sam’s “Go where?” He asks annoyed, you never made plans of going anywhere together, “My house, we’re going to watch a movie” sam pretends to think hardly about it, making you think he might have more important things to do, cooler things to do than to watch a movie with you, well he doesn’t. “Fine but I’m picking the movie” you nod and Sam turns around to grab some pants from his floor.

“Let’s go” Sam says like it’s obvious he’s done and you’re just standing there like an idiot, you follow him downstairs and to the front door and this time sam opens the door for you but still pushes you a little to get out faster.

You start walking trying to maintain his peace, and steal glances at him when you can, before he notices it “What?” Sam asks… so he did notice after all “Nothing its just… you’re not wearing makeup” you say “So?” He asks “it’s uncommon” he doesn’t roll his eyes or anything, you might be starting to think you’re friends. 10 minutes later you arrive to your house and this time you open the door for Sam.

“Where’s your mom?” He asks “she’s not home” “cool” Sam knows very well the way to your room, your room is completely different to his, clean bedsheets and freshly made bed, pink wallpaper decorating your walls and what might be the star of your room, your pretty vanity displaying all of your makeup, Sam always looks a little bit interested in your makeup but when he realizes it mostly soft colors and pink, blushes and lip gloss he loses interest just as quick, he thinks the only cool makeup product you own it’s black eyeliner, you grab your favorite disc “six pence none the richer” by six pence none the richer and “Kiss me” starts playing, Sam’s face instantly turns in disgust.

“What?” You ask, “isn’t there anything less awful you could play?” “Huh?” “Limp bizkit or something” “Limp what?” Sam decides to drop the topic due your answer. “Wait here, I’ll make the popcorn” you sprint out of your room and sam wanders through your room, he’s done it a dozen times by now, even knows which one is your underwear drawer, where your diary is… he beats up your plushies and when he’s done he goes across the room and stares at your Chad Michael Murray poster you probably found in a girly magazine and gives it the middle finger.

He can hear you singing downstairs and he rolls his eyes, what’s wrong with her? Sam asks himself, and two minutes later he decides there’s nothing worthy of his time in your room and lays on your bed staring at the ceiling “Here” you say putting the popcorn bowl on his stomach, he didn’t even hear you come upstairs, you sit next to him and squirm trying to get comfortable, Sam quickly looks away when he sees your skirt riding up a little bit “So, what movie are we watching?” You ask excited

Sam smirks

“Sam!” You cry out trying to cover your eyes with the popcorn bowl, of course he picked “Texas Chainsaw massacre” you’ve never watched this movie before and you totally hated it, 40 minutes later into the film.. Sam ignores your plea and his eyes are still focused on the tv, “Sam…” you say weakly with a pout in your face, “Sam can we please watch something else?” Sam sighs and grabs the tv remote to pause the movie. “Why?” “It’s too scary” “You’re such a crybaby” Sam says annoyed “It’s all fake, you know that right?” “It’s still very awful” you say and Sam grabs the popcorn bowl from your arms “sorry” you say apologetically.

“Do you want to go outside?” You ask “No” “What do you want to do?” He doesn’t respond “Sam” you try again “what!?” Sam says annoyed and you look like wounded puppy “what’s wrong? you seem really annoyed today, more than usual” “I’m fine” you sit closer to him, now your thighs are touching and he can smell your dizzying body lotion that smells like cupcakes, he stares at your lips and your cleavage…

“You can talk to me, I won’t judge you” Sam knows you would never do it, you’re too pure to make a joke of any situation that might be hurting him “My dick is broken” he lets out abruptly “what?” “I can’t get hard” Sam confesses “Oh” you don’t really know what to say…. “Why?” “I don’t fucking know” there clearly annoyance in his voice

“Are you going to see a doctor?” “What!? Why the fuck would I go to the doctor” “I dunno” you say confused and mostly to yourself “Are you going to tell your mom?” “You give the worst advices ever, seriously, are you that stupid. I wont tell my fucking mom” now he sounds genuinely angry. “Hey you’re not being nice!” Now it’s your turn to yell at him “I’m not trying to be!” You grab your pillow and hit him in the face with it, hard enough to make him yelp, then he grabs your other pillow and hits you with it, you gasp offended “Hey!” You grab the pillow again and start hitting him repeatedly pushing him on his back and getting on his lap as you keep your assault, you’re practically jumping on his dick as the bed moves and creaks beneath you, “Stop!” Sam yells urgently under you, you keep going and Sam lets out a moan and urgently grabs your hips to keep you still “S-stop! I’m sorry”

You finally stop the assault, your expression changing to confusion when you realize Sam is panting beneath you, “What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks up to you in shock and sits up, you try to get off his laps but his hands hold your hips still “Did I hurt you?” You ask with evident sadness and regret in your voice “I’m hard” Sam confesses breathlessly “But I thought you couldn’t-“ “I couldn’t!” You carefully remove yourself from his lap, his blue eyes stare at the obvious tent in his pants and you do it too, he takes the pillow and covers himself feeling ashamed “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” There’s slight annoyance in his voice “You know what is like trying to jack off soft?” You shake your head “It’s fucking annoying” “But I made you hard isn’t that what you wanted?” He shakes his head “I thought I helped you” you said confused “You could help me if I could kiss you” he says and you look at him shocked “i thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not friends” he says “Are you my boyfriend then?” “What!?” He says shocked “I dunno” you say “L-Look sometimes what you think you know doesn’t necessarily have to do much with reality” you tilt your head to the side “Okay”

You start leaning in and he lens back a little bit, you open your eyes in confusion and quickly closes them when he finally kisses you, his lips are soft, inexperienced just as yours, he moves his lips a little more impatient than yours, he’s uncoordinated, you moan when he grabs your waist roughly with one hand trying to pull you close to him, he’s not gentle, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t know how to… “Sammy… I want to help you” you say breathlessly… he kisses you again and moves him hands to tug on his pants, also his boxers, his cock is freed and slaps against his stomach… “what do I do?” You ask, so much for helping him “Just w-wrap your hand around it” you wrap your hand around his dick too loose for his liking he groans in annoyance due your unintentional teasing.

Sam wraps his hand around yours instructing you to tighten your wrip, and you do, he guides your hand to stroke him faster “Yesyesyes something like that” Sam says and his eyes screw shut “g-give me your hand” he says breathlessly, you do as he says and he spits in your hand “You can go again” you feel the familiar wetness in your panties as you keep jerking him off, the wetness you feel in you aching pussy that can only be relieved when you grind yourself against your plushies rubing nicely against you clit.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Sam say between moans, “Play with my balls c’mon” you cup them gently in your hand not knowing much about what to do with them.. when you start rolling them between your fingers, they feel nice and heavy on your palm fuzzy skin feeling so delicious against your fingers, his heavy cock in your hand is pulsating, you look at him and see his stomach contracting where his shirt rode up… he can’t help but let out pathetic whines “You sound so pretty Sam” you say and his eyes roll back, he moves his hands up to grip your tits and massage them, unexpectedly he grips them too hard and you make a small “ow” sounds make him grip them more gently Sam thinks he’s in heaven… he might be.

“c-cumming cumming!” he pants “ohh f-fuck!” Sam spams, his eyes roll back and his thighs shake, it’s a sight for sore eyes… white ropes of cum paint your hand and your wrist, you keep moving your wrist to help him ride his orgasm, just like when you keep grinding against your plushies after you cum… but Sam is not used to it “w-wait wait!” Sam writes on the bed trying to get away from your touch, “what?” You ask as your wrist keeps moving up and down still at a really fast peace, his head rolls back and you hear a whimper, his toes curl inside his shoes as he kicks his feet desperately… “ah ah ah!” tears start falling from his eyes wetting his eyelashes as he gasps for air “s-stop” you stop instantly when you hear the word and Sam groans tiredly… what the fuck… you gave him the best orgasm of his life… You “Y/N L/N”

Sam curls into himself panting still… you move to your nightstand to grab a wet wipe, you clean your hand and move him on his back… wiping the cum that landed on his stomach and some on his dick, Sam hisses at the contact of the cold wipe on his dick… “Did you- did you like it?” you ask nervously, Sam opens his eyes and puts his softening cock back in his boxers and tugs his pants up. Sam nodds shyly “T-thank you” You unexpectedly hug him falling on top of him, “I’m glad I could help-“

“Y/N!” You hear your mom call from downstairs shes coming upstairs Sam panics a little “Hey Sam!” Your mom greets Sam and he weakly waves at her “What are you guys doing?” “W-We just finished watching a movie” “Oh Okay” finally your mom leaves to her room.

Unexpectedly sam kisses you again, this time is soft and gentle, not rushed but still passionate, “You’re so pretty” he admits “I thought you didn’t like me” you admit “I do” “I thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not!” Sam says and kisses you again.

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers @i92-93 @sweetparty

[halfmoonaria]

this christmas, without us

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: you and tara are forced to play the roles of a happy couple at the christmas dinner.

word count: 6.8k

author’s note: merry christmas!!

Tara didn't want to be there. Not tonight, not with you.

She'd been dreading it since the day Sam announced the Christmas dinner. The idea of sitting in a room filled with people who thought they knew the two of you, pretending like everything was the same as it had always been, made her stomach churn.

It wasn't the same. It hadn't been the same in weeks—not since she'd looked you in the eyes and told you the words she couldn't take back.

Even now, the memory of your face in that moment was enough to make her chest ache, a sharp reminder of what she'd done. You hadn't cried, hadn't yelled.

You'd just gone quiet, retreating into a silence that had spoken louder than anything you could have said. She'd expected you to pull away completely after that, but you hadn't. You stayed. For her.

Which was exactly why she shouldn't have asked you to come.

But she had.

She'd waited too long to bring it up, hoping—praying, even—that she could find a way to avoid the whole thing altogether. A last-minute excuse. Anything to save you from the act you'd have to put on, the mask of someone still in love when the truth was hanging between you like a storm cloud. But the excuses didn't come, and when Sam asked if she was bringing you, Tara panicked.

"Yes," she'd said, and that was that.

The alternative wasn't any better. Showing up alone would've only raised questions, questions she couldn't answer. Questions Sam wouldn't let go. Tara could already hear her sister's voice in her head, dripping with fake sympathy, every word a jab meant to land right where it hurt.

"Guess she finally realized she isn't good enough for you."

The worst part was that everyone would believe it. Because no one could imagine it was the other way around. No one would believe that Tara was the one who wasn't enough—not for you, not for the kind of love you gave her.

They'd all look at you, with your easy laugh and unwavering kindness, and then at her, the girl who couldn't even hold onto the one person who had ever truly cared.

But Tara wouldn't let them blame you. She couldn't. You had been everything she needed, more than she deserved. That much was true, no matter how much she wished it didn't hurt to admit it.

She thought back to the night she'd asked you, still sitting uncomfortably in her chest. It had been late—late enough for most people to be asleep, but she knew you wouldn't be. You liked the quiet of the night, the way the world slowed down and felt like it belonged only to you.

She hadn't forgotten that, even if she told herself she'd forgotten everything else.

Her fingers had hovered over your name on her phone for what felt like forever, the screen casting a faint glow in the dark of her room.

Calling you was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't have a choice. Texting would've been too impersonal, and not asking at all would've meant facing the group alone.

When you'd picked up, your voice had been soft, like you already knew why she was calling but were too kind to make it hard for her.

She'd stammered through her words, trying to keep the conversation going long enough to delay the inevitable. A part of her hoped you'd hang up first, that she wouldn't have to say it. But then, dragging it out only made it weirder. No one called their ex just to chat, not after ending things the way she had.

So she'd asked. It had felt rude even as the words left her mouth—asking you to do this for her, after everything. It wasn't fair.

But you'd said yes.

No hesitation, no bitterness. You didn't even sound mad. If anything, you'd sounded... calm. Maybe even relieved, though Tara didn't understand why. She'd thanked you quietly, trying not to choke on the lump in her throat as she ended the call.

If she'd dreaded the Christmas dinner before, it was nothing compared to now.

Tara sat on the edge of her bed, her room a chaotic mess of discarded outfits strewn across the floor. She'd started with something casual, but it felt too careless. Then something dressier, but that felt like trying too hard. Nothing seemed right.

Was she trying to impress you? The thought made her stomach twist, and she shook her head, trying to push it away. No, it wasn't that. Or maybe it was. Was she trying to look like she was doing fine? Like she wasn't crumbling inside every time you so much as glanced at her?

She caught herself wondering if you were supposed to match. The idea was stupid, ridiculous even—you'd never done that when you were together, so why would it matter now? And yet the thought lingered, a small, nagging question she couldn't ignore.

Tara sighed and stood, rummaging through the closet one last time before her fingers brushed something familiar. She pulled it out, the soft fabric bringing a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her.

It was one of your shirts. Dark green, fitted in a way that hugged her frame a little too tightly. You'd left it behind without a second thought, and she'd never returned it—never even offered to, though you hadn't asked for it back.

She hesitated, holding it up in front of her. It wasn't like she had many other choices; nothing else seemed to work. Maybe you wouldn't notice. Or maybe you would, and you just wouldn't say anything.

Pulling it over her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The shirt clung to her, accentuating her small frame. She frowned, brushing invisible creases off the fabric. It felt like a bad idea, but the clock was ticking, and she didn't have time to overthink it anymore.

With one final glance in the mirror, Tara grabbed her coat and headed out.

The drive to your apartment was supposed to be short, but Tara stretched it out, taking detours she didn't need to take. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she tried to calm the nerves twisting in her stomach. It didn't help.

She'd been the one to suggest picking you up. It made sense—if they thought you came together, no one would ask questions. And you'd agreed without hesitation, like you always did. That only made her feel worse.

You'd always been like that in the relationship, too. Agreeable. Too accommodating. Even when Tara didn't deserve it.

When she finally turned onto your street, she spotted you immediately. You were standing near the curb, hands buried deep in your coat pockets as snowflakes dusted your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and you shifted on your feet, trying to keep warm.

She felt a pang of guilt. Had she taken too long?

As she pulled up, she tried to focus on the road ahead, but her eyes kept flicking back to you. You looked so... pretty. Gorgeous, even. The kind of gorgeous that made her chest ache.

But she wasn't allowed to think that anymore.

You climbed into the car, bringing a rush of cold air and the familiar scent of your perfume. It hit her all at once—clean, warm, unmistakably you.

You smiled at her, soft and unassuming, like this wasn't tearing her apart inside. "Hi."

Tara forced herself to smile back. "Hi." Her voice sounded steadier than she expected, but her hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Did I keep you waiting?" she asked, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's not that cold."

Tara nodded, focusing on the road ahead. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. She glanced over at you more than she should've, her eyes darting between you and the road. It wasn't safe, but she couldn't help it.

She hadn't seen you since... that day. She didn't let herself think too much about it, but the absence had been loud, impossible to ignore. She wanted to see if you'd changed, if the time apart had shaped you into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But you hadn't, not really. Your makeup was the same, soft but striking, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. What caught her attention was your hair—curled, just like you always liked it. She couldn't forget that detail, not after how often you used to mention it.

Her chest tightened as she pulled into the driveway. The house was already lit up, warm lights spilling out through the windows. Tara shifted into park but didn't move to get out.

When you reached for the door handle, she found her voice. "Wait."

You paused, turning to look at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

Tara swallowed hard. "You don't have to do this. I mean, you don't have to do things you don't want to." Her voice wavered, betraying the guilt clawing at her insides. "I already feel bad enough for bringing you here."

You stared at her for a moment before your lips curved into another soft smile. "It's fine, Tara. Really."

There was something in your tone—something that felt like forgiveness, or maybe understanding. Whatever it was, it made her chest ache.

You opened the door and stepped out, and for a second, Tara just sat there, staring at the space you'd left behind. Then she followed, pulling her coat tighter around her as the cold air bit at her skin.

The crunch of snow beneath your boots filled the quiet, rhythmic and steady, but it only seemed to make Tara's heart race faster. Her breaths came in small, uneven clouds of white against the cold night air, and the house—Sam and Danny's house—felt simultaneously too close and too far.

Her hand flexed at her side, fingers twitching with the urge to grab onto something, anything, to steady herself. Instead, she settled for another glance at you as you walked beside her, bundled up tightly in your coat.

When you finally reached the porch, Tara stopped just short of the door, her eyes darting nervously to your hand before you raised it to knock. The sharp sound echoed, muffled slightly by the snow-covered world around you.

The footsteps from inside were quick and loud, growing nearer. Tara swore she could hear her own pulse in her ears, each beat screaming louder as the steps approached. And then, before she could even register what was happening, your hand slipped into hers.

The touch wasn't firm; it wasn't clingy or desperate. It was light—practiced in a way that made her chest twist painfully.

Of course, she told herself, it was just an act. You were just trying to make it look believable for everyone inside, the story you both had silently agreed to sell tonight. But as her fingers curled around yours in reflex, Tara couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to hold on longer than she should have.

It doesn't mean anything. The words echoed in her mind, a mantra she tried to cling to as tightly as she clung to the warmth of your hand.

The door swung open a moment later, and Chad's bright, too-loud voice broke through the tension like a hammer.

"Hey! There they are—the lovebirds!" He stepped into the doorway, his grin wide and genuine, his voice carrying enough energy to fill the whole porch. "We were starting to think you'd bailed on us."

Tara felt her throat tighten, her lips pressing into a small smile that she hoped looked convincing.

"Never," you said smoothly, the lightness in your voice so practiced that it almost made Tara's knees buckle. How were you doing this? Acting like it didn't tear you apart as much as it tore her apart?

Chad didn't wait for more of a greeting before pulling you both into one of his signature awkward hugs, his long arms wrapping around both you and Tara in a way that left Tara stiff and unprepared. "Good to see you two," he said as he let go, stepping back and ushering you inside with a sweeping gesture.

Behind him, Mindy and Anika appeared, both smiling warmly at the sight of you.

"About time," Mindy said with a teasing grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her eyes flicked between you and Tara, sparkling with mischief. "We were betting on how late you'd be. I said fifteen minutes. Anika said twenty."

"It's seventeen," Anika chimed in, nudging Mindy with her elbow. "So technically, we both win."

"Technically, we're both losers for betting on their arrival time," Mindy shot back, though her voice was light and playful. She gestured for you both to come inside, her grin only widening.

As soon as you stepped over the threshold, the warmth of the house hit Tara like a wave—cozy and overwhelming all at once. She hesitated for a moment, letting you move ahead to slip off your coat. When you let go of her hand to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, the cold absence of your touch hit her harder than it should have.

The living room was just as she remembered, glowing softly with Christmas lights that lined the walls and a tree in the corner. The scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy coming from the kitchen. It was homey, inviting—and everything Tara didn't want to face tonight.

"Finally!" Sam's voice rang out from the hallway, and Tara tensed instinctively, her head snapping toward her sister. Sam's sharp eyes scanned the both of you, her expression hovering somewhere between teasing and judgmental. "What'd you do, get lost on the way here?"

Danny appeared at Sam's side, his easygoing smile balancing out her sarcasm. "Better late than never," he added with a chuckle, offering you a nod in greeting.

Tara risked a glance at you, but your expression was unreadable—calm and steady, like a mask she couldn't see past. She hated it. She hated how distant you felt even when you were standing right there, hated how you could smile and joke when she felt like she could barely breathe.

"C'mon," Chad said suddenly, breaking the moment with a clap of his hands. "Food's getting cold, and I'm starving. Let's move this along."

The others began filing into the dining room, their chatter filling the space and making it seem smaller somehow. Tara lingered in the entryway for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.

She glanced at you one last time, her stomach twisting as she watched you follow the others inside. The way you moved—the way you held yourself—felt so painfully familiar and achingly distant all at once.

Tara exhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step forward. The night had only just begun.

The dining table was a mix of warmth and chatter, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and silverware scraping against plates. Laughter echoed from one side to the other as stories were exchanged, and it should have felt cozy, comforting even, but Tara could barely breathe. She sat beside you, stiff as a board, pretending to listen as the others talked, though most of her attention was on you.

You looked so composed, so poised, effortlessly keeping up with every question thrown your way.

"So," Chad started, leaning forward with a grin that was far too wide. "What's next for you guys? Got any big plans?"

Tara froze, her heart lurching. She parted her lips to speak, but you were faster, the practiced ease in your voice cutting through before she could even form a word.

"Yeah," you said, smiling as if it didn't weigh you down. "We've talked about traveling a lot. We both want to see more of the world."

Your voice carried such sincerity that Tara almost believed it. Almost. The smile you directed at her was soft, genuine, the same one you'd given her a hundred times before. It sent a pang through her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod along like nothing was wrong. But everything about this was wrong.

"That's amazing," Anika chimed in from across the table, her tone warm and encouraging. "You two would have so much fun. Where would you go first?"

"I think Europe," you replied easily, the answer rolling off your tongue like you'd rehearsed it. "Tara's always wanted to visit Italy, so maybe we'd start there."

Tara's stomach churned. Italy had been one of her dreams for years, but now it was just another casualty of the life you two had planned together—a life she'd ripped apart.

The guilt was unbearable.

But what shattered her completely was when, as everyone nodded and hummed in agreement, you placed your hand on her thigh.

Tara's breath hitched, the weight of your touch sending a jolt through her. Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure of what to do. But then instinct took over—old habits she couldn't quite let go of. She reached for your hand, placing hers over yours like she always used to.

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, the motion automatic and gentle. She glanced at you, mustering the smallest smile she could manage. It wasn't like the bright, radiant smiles she used to give you, but it was something.

And you returned it, your eyes meeting hers briefly before you turned your attention back to the others.

Tara wanted to crawl out of her skin.

When the conversation shifted and someone else started talking, her gaze remained fixed on you. She watched as the mask slipped from your face, just for a second, but long enough for her to see the cracks beneath it.

She saw the way your fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together and picking at the edges of your nails. She noticed how your plate remained mostly untouched, the food moved around but barely eaten. You barely spoke when the spotlight wasn't on you, your posture sinking into the chair as the conversation moved on without you.

And Tara knew.

She knew you didn't want to be here. She knew you didn't want to sit at this table and laugh along with everyone as though nothing had changed.

And worst of all, she knew why you were here—because she had asked.

The guilt burned hotter in her chest, clawing its way up her throat. She wanted to scream, to stand up and tell everyone what she had done. That she was the reason you were like this, the reason everything was falling apart. She wanted to tell them she'd broken up with you. That she'd hurt you in ways she didn't know how to fix.

But she didn't.

Because she was a coward.

Because she'd brought you here for selfish reasons—to avoid the questions, to keep up the facade for just a little while longer.

The conversation shifted as plates began to empty, and the atmosphere turned lighthearted, playful. Someone—probably Chad—brought up the future, and soon everyone was chiming in, laughing and teasing each other about who would hit the next major milestone first.

"So," Anika said, her tone mischievous as she leaned forward. "Who's gonna be the first to get married?"

Danny chuckled, placing his arm around Sam. "Probably us, right?" he said, glancing at her with a grin. "I mean..."

Sam rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smirk. "Don't start, Danny."

"And the first to have kids!" Mindy chimed in, winking. "Come on, you two are like parents already. It's only a matter of time."

Laughter rippled across the table as Sam shook her head, muttering something about how she wasn't even thirty yet. The conversation quickly turned to Chad, who became the next target of teasing.

"And Chad here," Mindy added, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "is definitely not in the running for any of this since he's still single."

"Hey!" Chad exclaimed, feigning offense. "I'm just waiting for the right person, okay? I'm picky."

"Oh, we know," Anika teased, and everyone laughed again.

Tara tried to keep up with the banter, forcing herself to smile and laugh along, but she couldn't relax. Not with you sitting beside her, radiating the kind of quiet composure that was both impressive and heartbreaking.

The teasing shifted again, this time focusing on marriage.

"What about you guys?" Chad suddenly asked, his gaze flicking to you and Tara.

Tara tensed, but you didn't miss a beat, smiling politely as you shrugged. "What about us?"

"Well, you guys are like... the couple," Chad said, gesturing between the two of you. "I mean, if anyone's gonna tie the knot soon, it's definitely you two."

Tara's heart dropped into her stomach, and her throat tightened painfully. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, but you didn't react, your expression as calm and effortless as ever.

She tried to speak, but her voice caught, and it wasn't until someone said your name that she realized they were still talking.

"Right?" Mindy added. "You two are like grossly in love all the time. It's a little nauseating, honestly."

"What?" Tara blurted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She quickly cleared her throat, forcing a weak smile as she tried to reel it back. "I mean... what?"

Her attempt at sounding casual wasn't entirely convincing, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh, come on," Mindy said with a grin, leaning back in her chair. "You guys look at each other like the rest of us don't even exist. It's adorable but also sickening. Like, give the rest of us a chance to shine, will you?"

Chad jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. "Seriously, you two are always all over each other. I'm honestly surprised you haven't eloped already."

"Or at least gotten matching tattoos," Anika added with a laugh.

Everyone was chiming in now, talking over each other, their voices blending into a blur of comments and laughter. Tara's ears rang, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Her gaze flicked to you again, and you smiled—actually smiled—like none of this was bothering you. Like you weren't sitting here pretending that everything was fine when, in reality, it was far from it.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to join in the laughter even though her chest felt like it was caving in. She clenched her hands under the table, nails digging into her palms as the guilt clawed its way back up her throat.

She wanted to scream. To tell them all to stop. To tell them the truth.

But she couldn't.

Because this was her fault. And she wasn't brave enough to face the fallout of her own mistakes.

The conversations blurred together as Tara sat at the table, her mind too preoccupied to follow along. She kept her eyes on her plate, pushing the food around with her fork, too aware of you sitting beside her, your presence filling the space between them like an unspoken weight.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, catching the way you tilted your head as you listened to Mindy tell a story, your lips curling into a soft laugh at the punchline. It was the kind of laugh that reached your eyes, but Tara knew it was wrong. It was forced.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

That's what hurt the most.

She saw the way Chad playfully nudged you, Anika smiling at your responses like you hadn't just lost everything. Even Sam, as perceptive as she could be, remained blissfully ignorant. They all laughed, joked, teased as though nothing had changed.

But Tara knew better.

She saw the tiny details—the way your hands trembled slightly when you reached for your drink, the way you blinked a bit too much when someone mentioned something sentimental, like the future or happiness.

It was in the way you turned your head toward her just a little too late when someone directed a question at the both of you, as if you didn't quite trust yourself to look at her right away.

And it was tearing her apart.

Tara's guilt sat heavy in her chest, weighing down every breath she took. She had always prided herself on being observant, on knowing you better than anyone else. Now, that knowledge felt like a curse.

When you laughed at another one of Chad's jokes, she couldn't help but remember the way you used to laugh with her. Not like this—not forced, not hollow, but real, pure, alive. That laugh had been one of her favorite things about you.

She had stolen it from you.

Her hands tightened into fists under the table, nails digging into her palms, leaving little crescents behind. She wanted to leave. She wanted to stand up and pull you outside, away from all of this, away from the questions and the stares and the suffocating air.

But she couldn't.

Instead, she sat there, silent and still, drowning in the memories of what used to be.

Like the way you used to rest your head on her shoulder during long car rides, your hair tickling her cheek as you murmured about whatever came to mind. Or the way you used to hold her hand without thinking, your fingers curling perfectly around hers as though they were made to fit.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that.

The Tara from back then—the Tara who loved you so deeply it scared her—felt like a stranger now.

Her eyes burned as she blinked back tears, her gaze fixed on the flickering candle in the center of the table. She had no right to cry. No right to feel this way. Not when she had been the one to let you go.

I don't love you anymore.

The words echoed in her head, haunting and sharp. She had said them so easily, hadn't she? Like they didn't mean anything. Like they weren't the end of everything you'd built together.

But they had been.

Her throat tightened as someone across the table said her name, jolting her out of her thoughts. She blinked, her eyes darting to yours as you turned to her, a question lingering on your face. She hadn't heard what they'd asked, too lost in the storm of her own regret.

You answered for her, your voice calm and steady, effortlessly filling the gap she left behind.

And that was what killed her the most.

Because she realized you didn't need her anymore. Not the way you used to.

But God, how she still needed you.

The dinner was winding down, everyone still buzzing with conversation and laughter as plates were cleared and dishes were passed toward the kitchen.

You'd joined the shuffle at first, picking up your share and helping where you could. But after a few minutes, you paused, wiping your hands on a napkin.

"It's really hot in here," you said lightly, voice even as you glanced around the room. "I think I'm gonna step out for some air."

No one thought much of it—Danny nodded absentmindedly as he carried a stack of plates, and Chad cracked a joke about the crowd being the real cause of the heat.

But Tara noticed. She noticed how your smile didn't quite reach your eyes when you spoke, how your fingers lingered on the back of one of the chairs before you finally turned to leave.

Her chest tightened as she watched you step out, closing the door behind you. She told herself it wasn't a big deal, that you were probably just overwhelmed like anyone would be.

The house was crowded, the air thick with the scent of food, candles, and too many conversations happening at once. It made sense to need a moment.

But a part of her couldn't let it go. What if you weren't just cooling off? What if you'd decided you'd had enough? Tara knew it was selfish—knew it was her fault you were even here in the first place—but the idea of you leaving, of walking away from this final thread of connection, made her stomach twist.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to distract herself by helping Sam and Mindy dry dishes, she gave in. She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair but didn't bother to put it on as she slipped outside, the cold hitting her immediately. Her breath puffed out in soft clouds as she scanned the porch.

You were there.

Leaning against the railing, your arms braced on the snow-dusted wood like the cold didn't bother you. Tara's steps were quiet as she approached, but the faint creak of the boards and the crunch of snow beneath her shoes announced her presence. You didn't turn, though. She didn't expect you to.

It wasn't until she was standing beside you that she noticed the cigarette. The faint orange glow lit up your fingers as you raised it to your lips, the smoke curling up into the night air.

She blinked, thrown off. You? Smoking?

The memory of countless conversations came rushing back. You had hated the smell of cigarettes when you first met. You'd begged her not to pick up the habit, your voice firm but your eyes soft as you reminded her how much it had bothered you growing up. You'd even tried to get Sam to quit once, though that hadn't gone anywhere.

"I didn't know you smoked," Tara said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

You didn't flinch, didn't even seem surprised. Maybe you'd heard her coming.

"Me either," you replied simply, taking a slow drag. You exhaled, the smoke mingling with the cold air as you added, "I took one from Sam's pack. Think she'll notice?"

Tara's stomach churned at the casualness of your words. She wanted to ask why. Wanted to tell you that this wasn't you, that you didn't have to do this—especially not because of her. But instead, she forced a small laugh, her breath shaky as she said, "Probably. She counts those like they're her kids."

You huffed a laugh at that, the sound dry but genuine.

Tara shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to ignore the way her fingers itched to reach for yours.

She told herself it wasn't her job to worry about you anymore. She'd forfeited that right when she'd said the things she'd said, done the things she'd done.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the knot in her chest didn't go away.

The porch light cast a dim, uneven glow, its bulb faintly flickering, like it was moments away from giving out completely. Tara figured Sam had been telling Danny to change it for months now, but of course, nothing ever got done until it absolutely needed to.

But under that weak light, you looked radiant. Your features softened against the backdrop of snow, the glow highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and catching in your eyes whenever you glanced at the cigarette in your hand. The cold brought a flush to your cheeks, and a stray curl brushed against your temple, no doubt loosened from the wind or your absentminded movements.

It wasn't just how beautiful you were in that moment—it was the way you looked exactly as you had two years ago. The same girl Tara had fallen in love with. The girl she couldn't get enough of, who consumed her every thought and who made her believe in a love so fierce it terrified her.

And yet, you were also the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

She swallowed thickly, her chest aching as the memories hit her all at once. She thought about how many nights she'd spent staring at you across a table just like this, thinking about how lucky she was. How lucky she had been. And now? Now she'd forced you here, to this Christmas dinner, just because she couldn't bring herself to tell the people closest to her the truth.

The truth that she'd broken you.

You were facing away, your gaze somewhere out in the snowy darkness, but before she could stop herself, the words slipped out, quiet and unbidden.

"You look really pretty."

Your head turned toward her slowly, the cigarette still balanced loosely between your fingers. The porch light illuminated your face, and it was only then she saw the sadness in your eyes. It wasn't anger, frustration, or bitterness. It was a quiet, aching sorrow that somehow felt worse than anything else.

"Please don't say that," you said softly.

Your voice was steady, but the words cut through her like a blade. She didn't need you to explain; she knew exactly what you meant.

Why would she say that? Why would she tell you how beautiful you were when she'd been the one to shatter everything between you?

When she'd been the one to tell you she didn't love you anymore? For all she knew, you still loved her. Maybe you were still clinging to what she'd so carelessly cast aside.

Her throat tightened as she looked at you, helpless to say anything else. She wanted to take it back, to swallow the words and pretend they hadn't been spoken. But it was too late. She'd opened her mouth and let herself slip, and now the weight of her own guilt was unbearable.

Because as much as she told herself she'd ended things to spare you—to spare herself—she couldn't ignore the truth.

She still thought you were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And she hated herself for it.

The silence between you stretched out, heavy and suffocating. Tara felt it settle deep in her chest, wrapping itself around her ribs until she could hardly breathe. She'd made a mistake—again. Speaking without thinking. Letting the guilt spill out in ways that only made things worse.

But it wasn't just the guilt. It was the shame.

She hadn't even apologized. Not properly. Not for how she ended things, not for the way she left you to pick up the pieces while she avoided facing the truth of what she'd done. She had no excuse for it—only cowardice.

She couldn't stop herself this time. The words clawed their way up her throat, and her voice came out trembling, low and unsteady.

"I just..." she started, but her breath hitched. Her vision blurred, and she blinked quickly, trying to keep herself together. "I'm really sorry. About how things ended between us."

You didn't move, your expression unreadable as you stared at the snow-covered street ahead. Tara's chest felt like it was caving in.

"I just wanted you to know that," she added, her voice even quieter now. She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling, her hands clenched tightly at her sides to keep them from shaking.

She didn't know what else to say, how to put into words the regret that was swallowing her whole. Her heart ached with the weight of everything she couldn't undo, everything she couldn't take back.

All she could do was stand there, her breaths shallow, waiting for whatever you would say in return.

The air felt colder now, biting at Tara's skin, but she barely noticed. She was too caught up in the silence that followed her apology, every second stretching unbearably long. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and for a moment, she thought you wouldn't say anything at all.

But then you spoke, softly, almost as if the words didn't carry much weight to you anymore.

"I know."

Tara blinked, stunned by the simplicity of your response. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—anger, maybe. Hurt. Anything but this strange, calm acceptance.

You took another drag of your cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold night air before adding, "I am too."

The words hit her harder than she thought they would. They felt surreal, bizarre even. As if this was the first time you'd been honest about how you felt since the breakup, but also the first time Tara realized that honesty wasn't going to fix anything.

Her throat tightened, and she didn't know what to say. What could she say to that? Apologies felt hollow now, and explanations were meaningless. She had already said everything she could.

All she could do was stand there, her gaze fixed on you as you leaned against the railing. The faint glow of the porch light cast soft shadows over your face, and even now, even in this moment, Tara thought you looked beautiful.

And just as beautiful as you were, the truth of it all settled painfully in Tara's chest: you were done being hers. And there wasn't anything she could do to change that.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy, like neither of you knew how to move forward or retreat. Tara's throat felt tight, her apology still hanging in the air. She wanted to say more, but her courage faltered. You stood there quietly, flicking the cigarette's ash into the snow, your expression unreadable now.

Before she could find the words to say anything else, the porch door creaked open behind her.

"Come on, lovebirds," Anika's teasing voice cut through the moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Time for gift-giving before Chad opens all his early."

Tara stiffened, heat rising in her cheeks as Anika's words sank in. She forced herself to glance at you, but you didn't even flinch. Instead, you gave Anika the same soft, effortless smile you'd been wearing all night—the one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'll be right in," you said lightly, flicking the last of the cigarette into the snow before turning back to the railing.

Anika lingered for a moment, her eyes flicking between the two of you like she was waiting for something more. But when neither of you moved, she gave a quick shrug and disappeared back inside, the sound of her laughter fading into the warmth of the house.

Tara stayed frozen in place, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You should go," you murmured, not looking at her. "They'll start asking questions if you don't."

She hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She wanted to say something, to break through the mask you were wearing, but she couldn't find the words. And maybe that was the point—there was nothing left to say, nothing that would make this easier or less painful.

With a quiet nod, she turned and walked back to the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. As the door shut behind her, the noise of the dinner enveloped her, but her mind stayed outside, on the porch, with you.

Inside, the world felt wrong. Too loud, too warm, too suffocating. Sam called her over, Danny was laughing with Chad, and Anika was already pulling Mindy into the gift pile, but all Tara could focus on was the pit in her stomach and the way her chest ached.

Her legs moved on autopilot, carrying her back to the living room, but her mind kept circling the same thought: she should've stayed. She should've stayed with you on the porch and said everything she couldn't say before. She should've explained why she ended things, even if she didn't know how to make it make sense to herself.

Because you deserved more than this. More than her selfish need to keep up appearances. More than her cowardice disguised as convenience.

She sat down on the couch, forcing a smile when Chad joked about something she didn't catch. She could feel Sam's eyes on her, like her sister could sense the storm raging inside her, but for once, Sam didn't press. The guilt sat like a weight in Tara's chest, heavier now than ever, pressing down on her ribs until it hurt to breathe.

She thought of the way you looked under the dim porch light, the snow falling softly around you, your features so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. You were the girl she fell in love with two years ago, the girl she shared everything with, the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

But that was a lie. A lie she told herself so many times she almost believed it.

She didn't know if she loved you the same way now, but she knew one thing with painful certainty—she didn't stop. And she hated herself for letting her fears, her insecurities, and her flaws destroy what you had.

As the gift-giving began and the room filled with laughter and excitement, Tara's smile stayed fixed in place.

But her heart stayed on that porch.

[nena-la-fresa]

All Night Long | Good Ending |

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

All Night Long | Neutral Ending | /// All Night Long | Bad Ending |

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Flirting | Smut | Little bit of Voyeurism | P in V | Blowjob | Three way |

Word Count: 2551

Sometimes you still think about that night. You felt like Beth and Hannah were like sisters to you. You visited their house often for breakfast and dinner, so it really hurt what happened. You couldn’t even imagine how Josh felt. You still feel somewhat responsible, maybe if you hadn't been taking care of Josh that night things would have been different. 

They both knew you liked their brother. If anything they were the only ones who tried to get you together. They were the ones who set drunk Josh down on the same couch as you. You were so focused on playing with his hair and drawing lines on his face with your fingers. You even confused your feelings to him. You thought he heard you when he mumbled your name in his sleep. 

But then they went missing and Josh cut off you and everyone else. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but what else could you do. He was mourning. 

You were a little surprised though at the invite you got. But still happy, you really hoped that he was doing somewhat better. 

When you got there it was like he was the same Josh, he didn’t look like he was mourning. He acted the same way. He still made his same flirtatious comments. He was still that boy next door kind of guy. 

He had noticed that you got cold, so he walked over with a blanket. You were about to take it when he opened it and wrapped you with the blanket. You looked up at him, a bit corny but looking into his eyes just made you feel like kissing him. 

And you feel like he noticed too, why else would he clear his throat and walk away. You felt a little disappointed. But you thought it was a good time to talk to him. You sat down next to him while he was crouching trying to light the fire. You weren’t alone so you just spoke softly so only he could hear.

“I’m really sorry for what happened Josh. I really loved Hannah and Beth. I still miss going over to your house on Sundays and eating breakfast with you guys. I really regret that day too, I should have been with Hannah that day. But I was so focused on taking care of you that I just didn’t- I didn’t think about what could happen.”

You looked up and saw him looking at you. “Thank you. I appreciate that Y/n.” 

You were about to say something when Chris interrupted, “What am I missing?” 

You rolled your eyes before looking at Chris who was crouched coming in between the two of you. 

“Everything, we just had full blown sex right now. How'd you miss it?” Josh turned slightly to look at Chris. 

“Oh shit no way. Was it hot?” Chris patted Josh on the back. 

“Oh yeah dude. It was, you couldn’t tell? Dude had me cumming three times in the span of a minute. That guys, a real sex god.” They both looked at you bewildered, not uttering a word. 

“Okay, guess I can’t joke around. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I’m going to sit on the couch where it's less awkward.” You got up and moved over to where Ashely was. 

Chris moved to where you had been sitting, “So uh, you and uh, you and her?” He nodded towards you. 

“What about me and her?” Josh continued to try and get the fire going. 

“You finally gonna ask her out?” Chris whispers, “Cuz if you don’t I might just have to. I mean have you seen that ass? Just thinking about it makes me wet. Picture it, her ass up in the air while you're pounding into her and it has her screaming your name.” 

Josh glares over at Chris. Chris laughs, “Just saying the same shit you did buddy. But seriously, I think you should finally go for it. She definitely wants you to.”

You slowly stopped talking when you heard Sam yell about there not being any hot water. Josh got up and was about to head to the basement. 

“Go.” Ashley whispered, but seeing that you didn’t get up she yelled. “Josh, do you need help? Cuz Y/n could definitely help you if you needed help.” 

Josh turned around, “Yeah I could use some help. It’s definitely a two man job.” 

“Alright well if you need me that bad I guess I’ll go.” 

You both stood at the entrance of the basement. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going down there.” 

You didn’t budge, “What you scared?” Josh smirked. 

“Yes actually. Haven’t you ever seen scary movies Josh. People die in basements. There are ghosts and shit down there, psycho’s who are waiting for people to have sex.” 

“You tryin to have sex?” He raised an eyebrow.. 

You glare at him, “Sure buddy. Let’s have sex all you want.” 

He pumps his fist, “Yes.” He sees that you still aren't moving. 

“Alright. Here.” He holds out his arm for you. 

“Come on. Just hold onto me.” You hesitated, “Trust me, if there was anything in there I’d protect you.” 

“Okay.” You wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close. He could feel your breast pressed up against his arm. 

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him a little hard. 

After watching Josh fix the boiler he asks for your help. “Alright turn that switch there.”

“Right here?” 

“Yeah.”

You turn the switch on and the boiler starts working. 

“Yes! High five girl!” 

“What are we kids?” You laugh but still give him a high five. 

“Nah cuz if we were kids you wouldn't have said what you did upstairs.” You could hear the flirtation in his voice. 

You could feel your face heat up. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it” You start to walk away but hear a loud sound that scared you. “What was that?” 

You backed up into Josh, the warmth that was radiating off of his chest had you melting. His hands landed on your hips keeping you close. You felt him lean down and talk in your ear. 

“That could be a lot of things. But what I’m focused on is the fact you called me a what was it again? A sex god?” 

You shifted a bit in his grasp, an exhale left his breath. “Don’t do that.” His voice barely above a whisper. 

You felt something boil up from inside you. Something about him whispering in your ear got to you. “Do what? Oh this?” You rubbed your ass against him. 

“Fuck.” Josh gripped your waist tighter. 

“What can’t flirt back.” You felt him start to rub himself against your ass. 

One of his hands shifted from your hip to your pants. He wasted no time slipping his hand down them. His cold hand against your slit was such a sensation. His fingers went past your folds and slipped inside. “Fuck.” You whispered. 

You were at a loss of words as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. He used his other hand to move your hair out of the way so that he could suck on your neck. His hand going back to your hip to hold you in place. 

“What was that about flirting back?” He felt you tighten around his fingers. 

“Josh please.” 

“Please what?” 

“I need you.” He took his fingers out. Leaving you feeling empty. 

“Need me where.” He put his fingers in his mouth, “God you taste so good.” 

“In me. I need you in me please.” He got right to it. He took off your clothes and his. You could feel his hard dick against your ass. 

He pushed you against the way so that you could lean forward. His dick rubbing against your folds. You could feel his arousal. 

Your once empty hole felt full, the girth and length that this man had. He started out slow. But he picked up the pace. One hand on your hip and the other against your clit. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispered to you. He stopped for a bit before putting you on all fours. Your face pressed against the blanket he gave you earlier. His hands on your waist, gripping them tight enough to leave a bruise. And the feeling of his dick reaching places you wouldn't have felt while being pushed up against the wall. 

Josh's pace starts to pick up. He starts hitting all the right places and it causes you to scream. 

Unbeknownst to you both but there was someone watching. Chris was getting ready to scare you both with the first sound but when you both didn’t go investigating he got closer. That was when he saw you two. He was watching as you were grinding on Josh, and the way Josh started fingering you. He felt himself get hard. He knows he shouldn't have. He had a crush on Ashley. But what he told Josh earlier wasn't that much of a lie. He did think you were hot, especially in high school. Even when Josh dropped out he’d still see you around campus, he always wanted to talk to you. Always wanted to have sex with you. He fantasized about it a lot. 

And now here he is. Watching behind a shelf, with his dick out stroking himself to the sight of his best friend fuck the girl he thought was hot. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming when something fell. 

You both looked up in the direction of the noise. Chris’s face was now visible to you both. “Uh. I heard someone scream.” 

Josh didn’t stop though, the room filled with the sound of skin hitting against one another.  If anything Christ standing and just watching made Josh thrust even harder, like he was trying to claim his dominance. Especially with what Chris was saying earlier. 

You’ve never thought of Chris in that way but being watched did something to you. “Josh” you moaned his name and felt yourself squeezing around his dick. 

“You just gonna stand there Cochise? Cuz it looks like our girl here is getting excited from being watched. I know you haven't gotten your dick sucked. Why don’t you let her get it wet. But don’t expect it again. It’s a one-time offer Cochise.” Josh watched as Chris hesitated. 

“Or you could go back upstairs and not get any from Ashley. Cuz I know you both wont put out.”

In a rush Chris keeps the robe on but gets down on his knees. You prop yourself up but grab his hard dick. You lick the tip before looking up at him and putting it in your mouth. 

“Fuck” Chris lens his head back and grabs a fist full of hair. 

“She’s good isn't she Cochise.” Josh kept ramming into you, saliva dripping down your chin from Chris, dick in your mouth. 

“She's better with her mouth around you. So why don’t I give you a turn and you give me a turn.” 

Anger built up in Josh, “Fuck no.” Josh grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. 

“I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it though.” You let Josh slip out of you. You turned around, your lips hovering over his lips. “But I really want to try it. And then after I’m all yours.” 

Josh nodded, you told Chris to lay down. You made Josh watch as you sank down on Chris’ dick. You bounced on it a few times before leaning back against Chris’ chest. 

“You just want me to watch you fuck another guy?”

“No. Just come here.” You wrapped your mouth against his dick and got it wet. You sucked on the tip before pulling back, “I want you to go in.” 

“I’m sorry what?” Chris showed hesitation. 

“Chris please. Come on, don't ever tell me that you two horn dogs never thought about a girl with two dicks in her.” 

Josh smirked at you, “Wow, you’re really taking that party like porn stars seriously.” 

“You said it yourself, ‘it’s a one-time offer.’” 

Josh wasted no time. He leaned you back against Chris. Chris held your waist with one hand and the other hand its way to your breast. You moaned feeling Josh spit on your pussy and his dick. He pushed his dick against your entrance, stretching it and pressing it against Chris’. 

“Fuck” You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim. 

Josh starts to thrust, your pussy dripping from arousal makes it easy for them both to move inside you. You could feel yourself coming closer. Your eyes started to water, you felt that tingling sensation on your nose. They could feel you tighten around them. 

Chris pulled out and began to jerk himself off. But Josh kept going even if you began to get overstimulated. He kept fucking you while you were still on top of Chris, he just slightly lifted you to not disturb Chris letting it lose. 

You could feel Josh getting closer. His thrust were erratic, his breathing was heavy. He kept whispering your name until he came inside of you. 

Josh leaned down and kissed you. 

You all stayed there for a moment to catch a breath. That was before Chris got up after cleaning himself. “So uh, we don’t tell Ashely or anyone right?” 

“Right.” You laughed as Josh helped you put on your clothes. 

“And it was a one time thing Chris.” Josh turned around after he finished buttoning his pants. 

“Right right. I get it.” 

You all ended up going back up stairs together. Ashley got up from the couch “What took you guys so long.” She paused before seeing Chris robe. “What in god's name are you wearing?” 

Chris did the Trinity on Ashley, “I found my true calling.” 

“Pretty ironic huh.” Josh whispered over to you, you stiffened a laugh before elbowing him lightly. 

“Please tell me you're going to take a vow of silence.” Ashley joked.

“He better.” Josh spoke a little louder, confusing Ashley a bit. 

After you nudged Josh again he turned to you. “And you. What am I going to do with you?” 

You smirked at him, “With me? I did nothing.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I guess we just gotta go for round two huh.” Josh grabbed your wrist lightly trying to lead you. 

“Oh you mean round two with you know who?” You could see that he got irritated for a second. 

“Yeah sure okay.” Josh leaned down before holding your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Where are you two going?” Ashley laughed at the two of you. 

Josh started to walk up the stairs, “I gotta talk with her about some stuff. You two have fun down here.”

“Damn that basement really did something for them huh.” She laughed and looked at Chris. Who weirdly looked irritated. 

“Chris?” 

He snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. It really did. Some kinda trauma bonding or something from the scare I gave them.” 

“Where did you even find that?” Ashley listened to Chris all the weird shit that he found in the basement. Excluding the sex and him watching you and Josh fuck before he joined in.

[der-schweizer]

This is a little idea about the post of @proneterror204 make sure to hit them up for the og post.

Danny was somewhere between bored, tired (which he almost always was) and generally not okay. How his parents had managed to draw the attention of Wayne Enterprise and get invited to a Gala that Bruce Wayne himself was hosting, was beyond him.

Granted he hadn't even known about it until about three days ago. Honestly he should be used to getting utterly blindsided by his parents ‘Come on, Danny. We are going to drive for the next three days. It's going to be fun’-type of surprises.

They had just left him enough time to lock down the portal, something his dad should have done, grab his suit that Vlad had gifted him. (As much as he dislikes the Froot Loop, Danny wasn’t stupid enough to throw out a multi-thousand Dollar suit.) And then they were off.

He managed to sneak in a few texts to Sam and Tucker on the ride. So now he was here, halfway bored out of his head. He had already been talked to multiple times, and each time got mistaken for one of the Wayne kids.

Danny could see it honestly. Blue eyes, Black hair, decent build body and an air of exhaustion that hung around most of them like a cloak. It was probably the reason why they kept coming to him. Thankfully he managed to shake them off rather quickly.

He had finally found a quiet corner where he could lurk and eat some of the finger food that was laid out on the buffet. Going for thirds was tempting as everything was very tasty but sadly not very filling.

“Man, I could go for a burger.”

A snort came from next to him, which nearly startled him. The girl that had been in the corner before was putting a hand over her mouth in clear embarrassment.

“Uhm. Hi?” Danny gave an awkward wave, not knowing how he should talk to her. In turn she said a quiet “Hello” whilst also signing it. Danny of course immediately picked up on it.

“Sorry to ask but are you…” he gestured towards his ears, signing himself in case she was deaf. The girl looked at him with surprise before smiling softly. “No, I don't like talking.”

“Ah, perfectly understandable. I do know ASL, one of my friends is almost deaf but she got those fancy implants that let her hear everything.”

In lieu of the answer all he got was an “Mhh.” He went quiet after, having no fucking idea what to talk about. Danny quietly wondered what the fuck he could even talk about, the weather? Either rain or fog. The city? Rockbottom in every poll except for crime. Thinking about it gave him an idea.

“Say, who is your favorite Vigilante?”

The question got her attention, making her think for a moment before quietly saying. “Like Wing. Yours?” Danny mused for a second, humming loudly.

“Hmm, I think it's Orphan. I mean, have you seen her move? Just pure grace and elegance. I bet she is an immortal Vampire that simply got bored and decided to fight crime.”

He didn’t see how she blushed, “No.”

Danny just scoffed, “Are you kidding me? She moves with far too much elegance and grace to be mortal. Credit to the other bats but they move like mortals. She dances around both rogues and vigilantes!”

She turned away for a moment, trying to hide that she was blushing but it didn't really work. “Orphan. Is. good. What about others?”

“Oh, hmm.” Danny looked up whilst tapping a finger against his chin. “Well there’s Red Hood and Stabby Robin. Both are top tier, which should be a no brainer.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Why?”

“Well. Stabby robin practices the art of the sword, a forgotten art in modern times. And Red Hood shoots pedophiles! Who doesn't like that?” Danny set his empty plate aside, looking around for a waiter with drinks.

Her answer drew his full attention back to her. “Batman.”

Danny scoffed at the name. “Yeah, of course he doesn't like that. I mean have you looked at the costume of the very first Robin? Doesn't take much imagination why he dislikes Hood offing pedos.”

A crackle in her ear drew Cass’s attention away from him. “Red Robin here, Lantern and Superman are moving in to arrest his parents. Can you keep him distracted for a while longer?”

“Mmm. You still want burger?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah? Do you know a good place?” The question itself caught him absolutely off guard.

“Yes, take me out?” She tilted her head, giving him a cute look. Danny just shrugged, “Sure, my parents are going to take hours to explain everything anyway and they keep getting sidetracked whilst doing so. I fully expect to still be here tomorrow. Might as well spend the time with a cute girl.”

She blushed visibly, then stuck out her hand. “Cass, we date now.” He grabbed her hand, flushing a bit as well. “I’m Danny.”

“No, not Danny. You boyfriend.” She hooked her arm with his and pulled him along. Danny quickly went along with it, not saying no to it.

In Cass’s ear Red Robin spoke again. “Uh Cass? That wasn't the plan. You don't have to date him. Cass? Please don't make me explain this to B.” A click was heard as another com went to the same line. Batman growled out a simple. “Follow. Them.” before it went off.

Cassandra just put a bit more pep into her step as she pulled her new boyfriend towards her personal favorite Bat burger.

Nightwing clicked his comm on, “Found them. They are in the parking lot at main and fifth street.”

He spent a moment taking a picture of them. It showed them sitting on a concert divider, with Danny pointing up with his left whilst holding a half eaten burger in his right. Cass was sitting next to him,a bunch of fries sticking out of her mouth whilst she was grabbing a bunch more. She is also starring right at the camera. Her look perfectly said ‘if you ruin this date, i will end you’.

Batman's voice echoed in his ear, “Keep your eyes on Danny. He might have the same ideology as his parents. Oa and the lanterns are already moving in on the Ghostly Investigation Ward. We might have to take him into custody if things turn bad.”

Dick was just about to answer when Cass abruptly stood up, dranging Danny up and then away.

“Hold on, they just started moving again.” Nightwing got up from his perch and followed them quickly.

Tim worked on cutting through the strange rope, “Okay. Just to make sure I got everything right. Danny and Cass went to Batburger and had some takeout, then went for a walk in the park whilst you followed them, right?”

Dick who was trying not to wiggle, nodded. "Yeah."

“Then some weird ass shadow creature jumped you, tied you up and hung you from this tree, right?”

“You are forgetting the part where I described it as a lady from the eighteen sixties, and the part where she said to leave ‘the king of kings’ in peace. Other than that you got it spot on.”

“You know, I would make fun of you for that but considering that there is no knot in this rope and its tough as hell I will believe you.”

“Great. Do we know where they went after I lost them?”

Tim looked him right in the eyes. “Steph found them, and considering how red she was when she came back, it's best to wait until morning.”

Dick opened his mouth to ask why before it clicked in his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Danny woke up groggy, his eyes were crusted over and his limbs felt heavy. For a moment he just laid there, then did a full body stretch, stretching from toes to fingertips.

After it he laid there for a moment listening to noises in the room. He could hear cars and their horns. Some shouting down the hall and the shower in the bathroom.

That prompted the memories of last night which caused the ‘i got laid’ grin. He let out a satisfied noise, before crossing his arms behind his head.

After a moment Danny wondered if Cass would be up to ‘share’ the shower only for him to freeze at the sight of the Batman in the room.

“Uuuhhh.”

“Daniel James Fenton.” Batman growled out. “You are hereby placed under investigation by the Justice League for potential violation of interdimensional rights. Your parents have already been arrested and are awaiting their trial. Do you have anything to say to that?”

[zepskies]

Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like

Dean: Hey baby

Reader: She's busy

I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭

Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850

Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.

Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.

They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.

Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.

Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?

A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.

Yeah, just getting a few things.

Dean rolled his eyes. Right.

For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?

Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.

Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.

Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.

He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.

But...you didn't answer when he called.

Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.

Hey, baby. You up?

He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...

She's busy.

Dean frowned. What the hell?

Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?

But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.

Stop messing around.

Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."

She'll call you back, dude.

Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.

What the fuck is this?

She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.

All right. WHO is this?

Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.

A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.

Then he responded.

Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.

Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.

"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.

"You make it too easy," you replied.

He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.

"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"

"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.

"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.

That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.

In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.

Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)

Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.

"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.

"When are you getting home?" you asked.

He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.

"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."

He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.

"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.

Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.

He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?

...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.

"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."

"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."

And she's about to get punished.

The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[artyandink]

lipstick, baby

Summary: Dean liked to indulge as a demon. On food, pie, women. To him, it’d just be him seducing every single girl that came by with a wink and a flash of his pretty smile, then they’d practically be spreading their legs for him. Then there’s you. There was something about you, that had him coming to you instead of you to him. He wasn’t really complaining.

TW: Drinking, Demon!Dean objectifying women but also being hot at the same time, badass reader, smut, mention of Sam, Crowley being a wingman, reader has a bone to pick with Heaven, reader’s a former hunter

STW: Riding, thigh slapping, ass slapping, tit slapping, whiskey play, temperature play if you squint, really filthy stuff, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try at home unless you are married and want kids), switch!Dean, switch!reader, marking (except Dean’s is marking with lipstick), uhh- mentioned dacryphilia?, degradation on both sides (use of slut, pussyslut), face sitting, fingering, slight exhibitionism?, praise kink if you squint, oral sex (m + f receiving)

Song Inspo: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande

Whiskey every day really was the fine life, Dean mused as he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in the fifth bar he’d hit in three months.

Sam, of course, had been on the lookout for his location, but he never stayed in the same place for very long, which made him harder to find. It was fun, of course. Sex with women night after night, hearing them scream for him as he broke Crowley’s bed with no regrets. Anything to satisfy his high sex drive. Then he’d move onto a new one, and see them struggle to walk the next day. They’d shoot him a sultry, almost inviting look for him to fuck their legs out (they didn’t have much brains, so legs were the next best option), but he didn’t care. It was always a one use for him, not much more than that.

The bartender, a sweet piece of eye candy with long brunette hair, creamy mocha skin and a smile that told him all he wanted him to do to her, passed him a new glass with three fingers of whiskey, her fingers brushing his with promise of her getting on her knees and using her fingers and mouth on his cock.

Too bad, cause she did that a few days ago on her break, right before he blew her legs out.

The clearing of Crowley’s throat snapped him out of his inner monologue, having Dean glancing towards him on his right side. “Courtesy of the lady across the bar.” The former drawled, nodding across the bar counter.

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly and looking across the counter- god-holy-damn.

Your hair, your eyes, your lips. Those pretty things stretched into a smirk that could only be sultry as you nursed a whiskey, your scarlet lipstick leaving a print on the rim like the one he had on his napkin. It instantly sent thoughts of those prints on his chest and abs through his mind. Over his anti-possession tattoo. On his cock.

Dean wordlessly stood up, making his way slowly over to you. He took notice of everything. The corset bra underneath the red plaid that was left open. Ripped jeans that clearly had garters visible and the beginnings of sexy nylons visible.

Oh, he approved. He definitely approved.

“And who might you be, sweet thing?” Dean asked, voice low and panty-dropping and rough. He leaned his side against the counter, his eyes taking their sweet time in analysing every dip and curve of your body and imagining his hands on them. His own body burning as if your hands were already on him. Damn, that ring on your middle finger would feel so good.

“Said it on the napkin.” You replied, and then he nodded, checking it again. Ah, now he saw.

Dean offered you a smirk that was enough to make any other lady’s legs open wide, but yours didn’t. You just offered one back. “Pretty name.”

“Will I ever know yours, or will you remain the handsome, mysterious stranger who comes here every night?” Paired with a chuckle and a slow sip of whiskey right over the previous red print you’d left on the rim. Damn, you were good. Just the sound of your voice was enough to have him twitching in his jeans.

“Dean Winchester.” He drawled, his tongue tracing his teeth, hoping to sink them into your skin and mark you. A bit of a detriment to the enticing visual was the obvious mark of being a hunter. Dean could tell one of his former own. There was a silver knife in your boot. “And you’re a hunter, sweetheart. Here to kill me?”

The question had a scoff coming from your mouth. “Hunter? Baby, no, you got me all wrong. I’m not a hunter, especially after the dicks who call themselves angels have been makin’ good America into a clusterfuck. I doubt I’m gonna be happy with ‘em. This knife ain’t for you.”

The statement had a grin spreading on Dean’s face. You hated heaven, he liked that. You spoke your mind, he liked that. Your words rolled off your tongue, he liked that. He liked you. “Got a bone to pick with heaven, darlin’?”

“Less a bone, more an eyeball, but call it what you want.” You shot back with a sip of whiskey. Yeah, you were really good.

Dean’s hand found your hip, gripping it, his thumb pressing into your skin. “Can I call you what I want, baby girl?”

“You’re already doin’ that, Dean, I doubt there’s much more ground to cover where that’s concerned.”

“Damn straight.” He grinned, getting closer and closer. He felt your hand on his bicep, gripping firmly. Your hand on his shoulder, creeping up to thread your fingers in his hair. It all felt so… dizzying. “Tell me, what’s a fine piece like you doing in a bar like this?”

“Just passing through, seeing the sights.” Oh, dear Lord, now he could feel your breath on his. Dean was used to having control as a demon. “And now… I got another one on my list.” This time, it was like there was a rope and you were holding the other end of control instead of him holding both ends. Cause right now, all he could think about was how your thigh pressed in between his legs, grinding firmly against the bulge made by his rapidly-hardening cock.

The friction had a low groan rolling off his tongue, but it was sealed from the others in the room by your sweet, dizzying lips, your hand on his bicep sliding to his upper back and pressing him closer. By base, pure instinct, his hand on your hip pulled you closer, movements slow, calculating as you both shared your whiskey palette with every searing kiss.

Dean could take in your scent from the proximity. Earthy spices. Sharp perfume. The distinct musk of whiskey. All enough to make a normal man’s head spin. Made him want to add the sweet taste of your pussy to the menu.

And all at once, all too quickly, your lips left his, but burned a trail from his jaw to tease his earlobe with your teeth. “How about we ditch the party and go somewhere more comfy?” You murmured, your nails raking over the fabric of his shirt, over his chest. “Place is kinda dead anyway, and you seem like all kinds’a fun.”

“Mm.” He hummed in agreement, fumbling with his wallet and slapping a random amount of bills on the counter. “I’ve got a place.” Humming again, he grabbed a handful of your ass, rolling it before slapping it firmly. “Let’s go, darlin’. Now.”

“Fuck.” You stumbled back through the door to Crowley’s room, Dean’s lips attached to yours like you were his last dying breath. The room itself was a grand one, with a queen size, pieces of lux furniture and two beside tables, one of which having a bottle of whiskey on it.

One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other was, like before, groping your ass, harsh breaths coming in bursts against your mouth. His scent of whiskey, beer and old leather mixed with yours, a cocktail of dizziness and heat and pure sex.

Dean was too preoccupied with the way your scarlet lips fell, smearing onto his own and then his skin, as you’d abandoned his lips to start laying your claim on his neck. And he wasn’t sure when his flannel and undershirt made it to the floor, but it did, and now he was bare chested and sporting red lipstick marks all over his chest, and the numbers were climbing.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, reminded of his old self (however much he didn’t want to be, but now he wasn’t really complaining), his love then of being dominated by a woman and damn, was he enjoying it now.

Perhaps because it was you who was dominating in this moment.

Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to revert back to his preferences.

Dean tugged your hair, baring your neck to him and allowing him to attach his lips to your neck, unclipping that godforsaken corset bra with a hum, finding your bare tits. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He murmured, reaching a hand up to roughly grope one of them, his mouth descending to one nipple and letting his mouth envelop it, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it, his index finger and thumb toying with the other in tandem with his tongue, pulling or pinching with each suck.

“Shit-” Your hand flew to his hair, arching into his touch with a low moan and a couple more expletives. The feeling was electrifying— cause damn, did this man know what he was doing. He switched his attentions, swirling his tongue around your other nipple before sucking over and over and over, wanting to draw as many sounds from you as possible-

Wait, why was he sucking on air suddenly?

Dean looked down to see you on your knees, undoing his belt buckle with a surprising amount of efficiency and popping the button on his jeans, pulling down the fly. They pooled my his feet, and he kicked them and his boxers off- holy shit.

You’d taken Dean’s cock into your mouth, the whole expanse, swirling your tongue like he did on your nipple and taking the whole length of him, right until he hit the back of your throat, relaxing your throat to avoid your gag reflex from kicking up.

Dean’s fingers twisted in your hair, a strangled groan leaving his mouth as his hips bucked into your mouth. “So good, baby girl.” He choked out, gritting his teeth. “So good with those pretty lips around my cock- son of a bitch.” As expected, the lipstick not transferred to his mouth and chest was now on his skin, and he didn’t mind one bit.

You pulled almost all the way off to suckle at his tip, a motion that had him jerking once and then twice once you took him back into your mouth with hollowed out cheeks.

“Keep that pussy wet for me, darlin’.” Dean grunted, his head tipping back. “Keep it as wet as that beautiful mouth.” And you obliged, your hand moving to undo your jeans’ fastenings, slip past rub and toy with your clit, your pussy already damp from his ministrations on you.

Your hand gripped his thigh, and with a few well-timed swirls of your mouth and assistance from your hand, he was spilling into your mouth with a drawn out moan of your name. It was like white hot sparks went through his system, but he recovered quickly, pulling you off his cock once you’d swallowed every last damn drop.

With a well-practiced move, he hoisted you to your feet and threw you over his shoulder, striding across the small distance between your previous position and the bed with a firm smack to your ass, throwing you down onto the bed. He licked his lips at the sight of you like that, practically collapsing down on top of you to press a searing kiss on a freckle that resided just above your belly button, yanking down your jeans in the progress as he then went on a mission to mark up the majority of your torso with his teeth.

Once he was done, he took a moment to admire the sexy constellation before stealing a kiss from you. Dean’s eyes landed on your garters and the skimpy little nylons you were sporting under the jeans, as well as the now ruined black lace panties that matched the corset bra he’d unclipped earlier. A grown bubbled up in his throat, followed by a gravelly chuckle.

“You really know how to get the attention of a guy like me, huh, sweet thing?” He murmured, sweeping a hand over his mouth and biting his lip, taking a moment to really appreciate the visual.

“I take more pride in what comes after.” You gave him a sexy smirk that had his cock throbbing. “It’s one thing to get attention, but I take more pride in keeping it.”

That got him nodding. “You sure can keep it, baby.” He worked off the garters and nylons, chucking them aside and hooking a finger into the hem of your panties. “Attached?”

“Do I look like I’m sewn to them?” A wink from you. Damn, he was hooked. Line and sinker.

“Touché.” He flicked his wrist, which tore the panties until they were beyond repair, dropping them somewhere else. His eyes locked on your soaked pussy, and fuck-shit-crap was it the most pretty thing he’d ever seen.

Within seconds, Dean had your legs over his shoulders, slapping your thighs and kneading them, using the grip on them to spread you open and run his tongue up your dripping cunt. The moment he got his taste, of the sweet, sweet ambrosia, something switched and he really began to work.

He felt your fingers thread in his hair again, your palm pressing him closer to you, and was he complaining? No. He could make a damn home right here. Right here, at your pretty fuckin’ pussy.

He’d fuck that pussy raw.

“F-Fuck, Dean!” You gasped, your thighs closing around his head, but he didn’t mind, lapping at you before licking up to your clit so he could suck at it. His fingers joined the party, slipping one in, then add one with no resistance whatsoever, with had him groaning against you and sending vibrations through your body that felt rather like electricity. Blinding electricity.

“That’s right, pretty thing.” He growled against your cunt, crooking his fingers before sucking on your clit again. “Show me how goddamn needy you are.”

You found yourself barrelling to the edge quicker than any other man had ever possible managed, and damn, did it feel good. Too good.

“Gonna-” You had to cut yourself off to gasp and let your eyes roll back when Dean curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, “gonna come-”

“Come for me, baby.” Dean encouraged, slapping your thigh firmly, kneading the flesh. To get you there, he traced his name out on your clit before sucking, which had you coming on his fingers and tongue, maximum voltage sparking your veins and hanging stars in front of your rolled eyes.

You felt Dean’s tongue lapping up everything you had to offer, all your come and he didn’t waste a drop. He sucked your arousal off his two fingers, licking his glistening lips and collecting the copious residue off his chin with his thumb, sucking that into his mouth with a look that could only be described as pure porn.

The sight of him - mussed up hair, naked, lips smeared with red, the same to his neck, chest and cock - was pure porn.

“More.” Was the only thing he said (growled, more like), and he flipped you over, practically manhandling you until you were kneeling on the bed. Straddling his face.

His hands took your hips and yanked you down, and he instantly licked a long stripe up your pussy, your hand flying to grip the headboard as you ground down onto his face, obscene sounds leaving your mouth but you didn’t care, really. All you cared about was the god of a man making you fall apart in record goddamn time with just his mouth.

Dean grabbed handfuls of your ass, slapping the softness and groaning into your cunt. This was honestly where his element was. Not hunting, not demonhood, no. He belonged with his tongue on your pussy.

His hands reached up to grope your tits, kitten-licking at your clit while his fingers tweaked your nipples, adding a dual level of stimulation that made you rock your hips faster.

Dean’s left hand reached down, swiping two fingers through your soaked pussy and lifted those to your mouth, and he chuckled. “Suck, sweet thing.” You took those fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and feeling those two fingers that had previously worked magic on you in your mouth. The calloused pads pressing on your tongue. “That’s it. Such a slut for my mouth, huh?”

“Could call you a pussyslut then, hm, Dean?” You panted amid moans, running a hand through your sweaty hair. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”

“Well played.” He growled, working faster, determined to get you over the edge. A few more licks, a couple more strokes and Dean did just that, his name rolling deliciously off your tongue as you came on his tongue for the second time. He drank all that up too, like a parched man in the Sahara.

Dean was normal used to sensitive, pliable women at this stage, but no, you shifted back and shoved him down when he was about to get up, making him fall back with a soft grunt, his head pressing into the pillows.

His hands gripped your hip and thigh by instinct, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin when you lifted yourself, sinking down onto his cock and taking all of him in one.

All of you was an expert at this.

“Fuck.” Both of you moaned in unison, his hands tightening on your hips while your nails raked down his chest, leaving red trails that instantly cleared up.

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hand gripping the your hair as you adjusted to how goddamn big he was. Out of all cocks you’d taken in your life, Dean fuckin’ Winchester took the cake. “So good.” You muttered absentmindedly, already feeling your pussy clenching and him buried all the way inside you, reaching places you didn’t know you had.

“Shit, sweet thing, you’re so tight.” Dean groaned out, and his hand left your hip to grab the bottle of whiskey, popping off the stopper with his thumb and chuckling. When he saw you not moving, he slapped your tit, hard, but somehow extremely sexy. “Move. Now.”

Now, had that been anyone else, you’d have tied their wrists to the headboard and edged them until they cried. But with Dean Winchester, well, you could risk relinquishing control for a second, or five.

You began moving- up and down, up and down at a dizzying pace, one that had your thoughts clouding as the side of his cock brushed against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, baby.” You moaned, your mouth falling open. What was it with this man?

Dean took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, swallowing it and grunting roughly. “That’s it, pretty thing. Ride my cock. Bounce on it, attagirl. That’s a good girl.” You let out a whine in response, and an even louder one tumbling from your parted lips when you felt the cold sting of strong whiskey drip down from your chin, to your neck, over your tits and further down, poured by Dean from the bottle of whiskey that was then returned to its place on the bedside table.

He leaned forward, lapping up the whiskey from where he could reach, guiding your movements while his tongue flattened against your skin and licked stripes over your neck, your nipples, the swell of your tits and the valley between them.

“Y’look so good on me.” Dean growled, using his now purchase on your hips to bring you harder down onto his cock, watching it disappear into your pussy with gritted teeth. One hand left your hip, thumb finding your clit and once again tracing his name before moving into fast yet calculated, perfect circles, his lips adding to it by sucking more and more marks onto the skin of your neck and chest. Making sure you couldn’t cover them, not easily, at least.

“Y’look so good under me.” You shot back after a series of moans and whimpers and loud expletives, and he laughed deep and rough, hand finding the back of your head and bringing your lips against his, parting them, letting his teeth graze and tug at your bottom lip. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass, gripping it for the nth time that night. Then, before he knew it, your pussy had clamped down on him like a vice, and you were over the edge, coming with a rolling of your eyes back into your head.

Dean gripped your chin, bringing you to look at him with hazy eyes as his name was ripped from your lungs, crying out and rendering you breathless as he then worked you down from the high, chasing his own by thrusting up into you.

Works two ways. You get to come down and he gets to come. Fair deal.

And the deal was fulfilled on both ends, cause while you had come down from your high with a delicious ache and/or satisfaction in your pussy, courtesy of Dean, he’d also got to come, spilling into you.

Thank God you took Plan B, even though it’s not 100 percent effective.

You lifted yourself off of him, rolling onto your back beside him as you both caught your breath. You’d sort of had an out of body experience, being treated to three intensely mind-blowing orgasms. And you’d always been the one to dominate. Not today, since a demon unexpectedly called Dean Winchester had proven you wrong with his gravelly voice and rough nature.

Damn, if you were a hunter, you’d be missing out on this religious experience.

“I’m assuming you’re the type to do a lady then go.” You breathed, running a hand through your sweaty hair while both of you adjusted the blankets on you at the exact same time.

“I don’t think that applies this time, princess.” Dean smirked, looking you over with an impressed undertone and an obvious blazing heat in his gaze. “Nah, definitely not this time. I’m keepin’ you, for a very long time.” He chuckled, biting his lip. “If you’ll allow me to keep you, darlin’.”

“Keep me, maybe not.” You winked, but then grinned. “But I’m definitely stayin’. Can’t just do you once and then leave it right there, can I?”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, then rolled onto his side, cupping your cheek and thumbing your bottom lip. “Cause I’m still wonderin’ what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.

[impalanna]

Title: Foggy Windows Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, p in v, smut, dirty talk, SO MUCH SMUT, name calling, rough sex, Dean using you Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. You two don't even get to the location where the hunt is without having to pull over and, you know. Authors' notes: For @shadysoulangel :) This is based off of an imagine that I did (click here to access) I hope you guys enjoy! ;) Word Count: 2,837k

Dean rubbed his eyes, not ready to go out on this hunt but wanting to get out of the bunker for a little while. He was pent up, in every since of the word. You were asleep beside him, which made him look down at you and smile. He loved waking up before you did. It meant he could look at how peaceful you are, curled up beside him. He adored you.

You always knew when eyes were on you, even when you were sleeping. It always woke you up when someone was watching you. You stirred awake, meeting Dean's eyes. "You watching me sleep, perv?" You giggled at him, getting on your knees to lean up and kiss him gently. "What? You gonna watch me shower, too?" You asked him in the sexiest tone you could muster up.

"Damn right I might, sweetheart." He smirked at you, eyeing you in his old T-shirt and your underwear. He is so goddamn hot. You thought to yourself as you went into the bathroom and closed the door, taking off your clothes.

You slipped into the shower and began washing your body, the thoughts of how tense Dean seemed when he was hunting taking over your mind. You wanted to get him to relax, to breathe for just a minute, but he isn't going to listen to you if you ask him to take care of himself. So you had an idea. You would take care of him, in the only way he'd let you.

You knew it was summer and it was hot, so you could get away with wearing your shortest shorts without making it seem like you were trying to get his attention. You smiled to yourself as you moisturized and then went to your closet to pick out your top. You knew just the one. It was black, which was Dean's favorite color on you, with a low cut neck and it was cropped. Perfect for staying comfy and perfect for getting him to focus on how bad he knows he wants you.

You walk out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating their cereal and drinking their coffee. He saw you, and choked on his corn flakes. Sam gave him a confused puppy dog head tilt and then turned around to see you, then rolled his eyes. "Can you guys get a room?"

You smirked to yourself as you went to the cabinet to get a cup. There were cups already out, but you loved how cute they looked turned upside down beside the coffee maker so you never messed with them.

"Morning." Sam said in a yawn, his head in a daze due to the lack of sleep. "No breakfast?"

"You know I never eat breakfast, Sam." You said in a happy tone. You were telling the full truth when you said that.

"Oh yeah… guess I forgot." He said slowly again, watching you make your coffee to your liking. "Hey, we've got a hunt but I'm going to see a friend, you think we can take it on with Dean? It's about a day's drive from here."

"Sure, that's fine." You smiled at Sam, "Who's your friend?"

"Uh, no one, just, uh -"

"He's gonna go get laid." Dean cut him off. Sam shot a look to Dean that would kill if it could. "What? She's no prude." Dean said in defense of himself.

"Oh hell yeah, Sam! You go! We'll take this hunt, we need some time alone anyways." You looked at Dean and said, "let me go grab some stuff to take on the road." And left the two brothers with their thoughts.

"Mhm, yeah sure, princess." Dean didn't think you could hear him but you did, and goddamn did it put fire in your veins to hear it.

Damn you loved it when he called you princess. He knew that, too.

You hopped into Baby as you took your bag off your back. You knew exactly how you were going to get him to break for you. He was going to fuck you like he hasn't fucked in years.

Dean gets into the Impala, his eyes trailing your whole body as he sits down. He was primarily focused on your chest. You were playing on your phone but you knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew what you were doing, too.

"So what kinda music are we listenin' to?" Dean asked about a minute into the drive. His voice was, if you had to put it in a word, dark. You didn't say anything but you pulled out a tape he made you a few years ago. He labeled it "foggy Windows" because when you guys would have sex in the Impala, the glass would fog up.

He smirked at this. "What are you tryin' to do, sweetheart?"

You didn't say anything again as you slid the tape into the player and let it play. You smirked as "She brings me love" came on. You leaned close to Dean, facing him with a huge ass smile on your face.

"You need it, sweetheart? You baitin' me?" His voice was low as he slid his right hand up your leg. "I wouldn't be mad."

"And what if I am?" You asked with a smirk. "Maybe I'm just that horny for you."

The tires squealed as he came to a hard stop. "Say it again. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you." His voice was shaky as he spoke, his eyes wondering from your lips to your chest.

"Dean I need it so bad, baby. I need you to fuck me." Your face was going red under your makeup, as it did you thanked yourself for putting it on this morning.

Dean pulls Baby into the closest empty parking lot.

"Good girl. You're so good for me, doing what I tell you to do." He smirks and shuts the engine off. You could tell how hard he was just by looking at him. His cheeks flushed, his jeans a little too tight, and he had an adorable smirk on his face.

"I can be even better." You said slowly. You had no idea where your confidence was coming from but you were just glad it was there for you when you needed it.

"Get in the back." Dean demanded you, "Don't open the door to get back there. I want you to climb over my seat. Just don't damage my headliner." He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." You said as you climbed over his seat, making sure you purposefully put your ass in his face as you did so, which made Dean slap your ass as hard as he could. "Good girl."

"You're so good for me, princess." You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Dean opened the door and climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He immediately looks down at your chest. "Goddamn, baby, I know why you wore this shirt." He said, grinding against your leg.

You smirk and bite your lip, "Yeah? You like it, daddy?" You ask as you squeeze your boobs between your arms, making them almost pop out of your shirt.

"Fuck, (y/n), you have no idea." He says as he starts kneeling them through your shirt. " I've been wanting this for a while." He says, leaning down to suck on your neck.

You gasp at the feeling of him all over you like this. 'Since I've been loving you' by Led Zeppelin starts playing in the background, making you moan. You knew that when this song was playing, Dean was going to fuck you good. it wasn't because you two were "together" or whatever. He really did love you, with everything he had. He told you one time on a hunt, a hunt that almost killed you. And he knew damn well that you loved him with everything you have too.

"Dean, please, baby. I need it so bad. Need to bounce on you." You wanted to ride him so badly.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, You want to bounce on my cock, baby? You want to make me cum for you?" He moaned in your ear, damn near panting because of how bad he needed you.

"Yes, Dean, please." You beg him, hoping he'd give into you. But he didn't.

"Sweetheart, you know I love to please you, right?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yeah baby I do, why?"

"Because I'm not going to give into you. I need to let off some steam. I need to have you the way I want you right now. I need you to be a good little slut for me." He was so fucking needy, and fuck, it turned you on.

You couldn't say anything to this, but you nodded your head. At this he slid off your shorts and threw them into the front seat.

"Baby, no underwear?" He asked, it coming out as a praise rather than a question.

"Yeah baby, all for you." You couldn't help but sound desperate. You needed him, bad.

"God, you're such a good little slut for me." He growls into your ear, his hands roaming around your body until he meets your clit.

"Fuck, fuck yeah Dean I'm your slut." You moan as he rubs circles on your clit, almost pushing you off the edge.

"You're so wet for me too baby, must really want me." He grunts as he sucks on your neck, close to your earlobe.

Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He was so hard his jeans were hurting him. He slides his jeans off and pulls his shirt over his head and he strokes his cock a few times while looking down at you. "So fuckin' gorgeous, (y/n)." He moans as he strokes himself, precum leaking from his tip.

Dean positions himself at your entrance. He looks up at you, and you know how good he's about to fuck you. He slams into you, and you pull him down onto you. Your name falling off his lips like sin. "(y/n), you're so fuckin' tight for me, baby. Feels so damn good."

You loved it when he'd talk to you like this. It would send you over the edge. You dug your nails into the skin on his back as he slammed into you, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his huge size. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him rail you, moaning into his ear, "you fuck me so good, this pussy is all yours, Dean."

"I know she is." Dean said, as skin was hitting skin, the sounds of this filling up the Impala. The windows fogging even though it's a billion degrees outside, which Dean was a saint to leave the ac on because of this.

The way he would refer to your pussy as "she" instead of you, always made you feel, weird, but good. You loved it when he said this. Part of you thought it was because you liked the way he didn't look at you as just a sex outlet. Yeah he loved your sex but he loved so much more about you and valued so much more of you than that. And even after all these years, after all the sex you guys have had, you're still amazed that he thought this way.

You clenched around him when he said this to you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he rode you out. "You better wait and come for me, sweetheart. I'll tell you when you can come." He purrs into your ear,

"Yes, sir." You moan in response. He slows down and gets off of you, changing things up and doing exactly what he's been fantasizing about doing to you.

Get on your stomach, baby." He demands, but there was always a tinge of gentleness in his voice when he took control like this; unless he was mad at you.

You nodded and got on your stomach.

"Good girl. Now bring your knees to your chest, princess." This was hard but it wasn't the first time he's made you do this. "Yes, daddy." You responded.

"Good fucking girl. Now, arch that back for me and spread those sexy ass legs." He moans. "Oh and put your hands behind your back so I can hold onto them." He smirks.

"You do as your told, after bringing your legs to your chest you arched your back and spread your legs. Dean puts a thumb into your asshole and starts to pound into you again, not letting you adjust this time either.

"Ohhh fuck, such a good slut. You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you princess?" He asks breathlessly, his thumb in your ass making your head spin. "You like it when I fill you up like this? Both your holes filled up by me, (y/n)?" He was so fucking close and it was obvious.

"Yes, daddy I LOVE it when you fill me up like this. You fuck this tight little pussy so good, I'm your little slut." You are screaming at this point, his cock slamming into you so hard you almost forgot where you were. The only thing that was on your mind right now was Dean.

Dean pulled out quickly and sat down on the leather seats, looking at you and panting. You looked so disappointed it was adorable. "Did you cum?" You asked, hoping he didn't yet. You liked to ride him when he and you both came, and he knew this.

"Bounce on me. Get your fine ass over here and ride daddy's cock, you slut." Dean demanded, his eyes dark with lust.

You didn't hesitate. You took your shirt off that you've been wearing this whole time and you hopped on him, sinking down on him. "Fuck yeah, so tight for me and I've been using you for over an hour now, baby. Your pussy is perfect." You smirked at this and started riding him, rolling your hips and moaning his name.

"You're perfect, sweetheart, All of you is perfect. Every last inch of you, (y/n)." He moaned as you rolled your hips faster. You took your bra off and threw it in the front seat. You then grabbed the top of the bench seat behind Dean and started to bounce on him, your tits making a slapping sound on your skin every time they'd come back down to reunite with the soft skin under them.

Dean was losing his mind. Your body moving like this on him, how tight you are, the sounds you were making, the way you looked riding him, he was lost in you. He was in a daze. You leaned forward to kiss him gently. You were so close and he was too. He grabbed your ass and started fucking up into you. "You like that, sweet girl? You like it when I grab your ass like this and pound you?" He moaned into your ear as he took control yet again.

"Yes daddy I do, please fuck me harder, I'm gonna cum." You moaned loudly as he pounded you relentlessly.

"So fuckin' good for me, slut. You better come for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock, (y/n). I wanna feel you squeeze me." He demands behind clenched teeth.

You didn't hold back, you let out moan after moan, begging him to fill you up, telling him his cock made you feel like a perfect little slut. “Mmmmmm, Dean you fuck me so good.” You moan as you’re looking at him, his eyes locked on yours and a sexy fucking smirk playing on his face.

Dean pulled you off him and threw you onto the seat. He was careful to make sure your head wasn’t going to hit anything before he threw you. He quickly got between your legs. "Wanna watch your tits bounce like this while I fuck you, sweetheart." His movements were powerful and sloppy. He was moaning your name, pinching your nipples, and fucking you; hard. Harder than he ever has.

You scream his name, holding onto the edge of the seat for support. You are bouncing and moaning, your breasts moving all over the place as his cock pounds into your dripping wet cunt.

"So pretty like this baby." He moans and grabs your neck gently. He moans your name, "Fuck I'm gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fill up your perfect little pussy." He grunts loudly, his grip on your neck tighter now. He cums deep inside of you, his dick all the way into you, reaching your g-spot. "Ohhhh yeah baby, fuck yeah that's good, Fuck I'm cumin'" He moans as he spills deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down as he empties himself.

"I love you, baby." You say breathlessly.

Dean leans down and kisses you, soft and slow. "And I can't live without you, baby." He says, panting.

[1980shorrorfilm]

has it hit you?

click!!!

pairing…sam carpenter x gn!reader

in which…an argument causes sam to push you away; which she regrets when you end up under the mistletoe with someone else.

before you read…angst with comfort. alcohol usage. mentions of sex.

“whatever sam said, she didn’t mean— you know she gets like that sometimes!”

tara follows you around the frat house that was lazily decked out with flashy christmas decor, like a child being led by her parent. fitting, considering she’s taking your fight with sam to the heart. 

it was sudden, so sudden yet something you should’ve been entirely prepared for. 

you made the mistake of taking a step in a direction she’s repeated several times she didn’t want to go down. emotional intimacy. a hint at a relationship. dinner with your family for the holidays. 

you had invited her and tara, having believed you were close enough with them to do so, but specifically sam. the woman you’ve spent most of your nights with, wrapped in her arms, skin to skin. 

it wasn’t just sex with her. when she was vulnerable enough, she’d trust you with some of her lighter secrets, still unable to tell you everything that goes on her mind. 

you were okay with that, though, always so patient with her. that’s why you accepted what you two were…nothing and everything at the same time.

not dating, no, she wouldn’t say that. she wouldn’t call you her partner. she wouldn’t even call you her best friend. you were just…you. someone she liked enough to occupy her time with, and she assumed that’s all she was to you.

not someone to bring home to your parents, sam did not think she had the title. she thought she didn’t want it, imagining the judgmental faces from your beloved family members, as if you brought home a mistake. 

a mistake. that’s what she called your whatever-ship.

something that should’ve never happened, she told you. you’re too clingy, she said. just leave me the fuck alone, she begged.

you listened. you always listen to sam. 

leading you to a frat party, being followed by her little sister, a constant reminder of what you’re trying to escape. 

“maybe we should go home— she’s probably waiting for you,” tara tries again, watching you grab a beer from the fridge. you sigh her name, not wanting to scold her, but really tired of hearing about sam. tara gets the hint, and the obvious annoyance in your tone, deciding to back off. for now.

your mind can ease somewhat without having tara’s shadow, actually talking to your friends while the alcohol works its way into your system. 

you find yourself playing beer pong against some faces you occasionally see in class, laughing at just how bad you were— then remembering how good sam is. her aim is amazing, sam knows the right angles and how delicate or hard the pressure should be. you learned that a long time ago, though. 

why are you thinking about her? when you’re just her mistake?

you shake your head, bringing the red solo cup to your lips and downing the alcohol while the opposite team celebrates their win. your partner, a tall blonde who leaned in very close to you the entire time, now trying to hold a regular conversation. 

“aren’t you seeing that carpenter chick?” they had asked, and your head snapped toward them, brows knitting at the comment. you hadn’t known your association with her seemed to others what you also had viewed it as. romantic. 

it’s slightly comforting, knowing it wasn’t entirely in your head, the way samantha tried telling you it was. maybe she was lying more to herself, than you, or so that’s what you hope for. 

“nope,” you tell them, “not seeing anyone.”

the bitterness of your words goes unnoticed, and is taken as an invitation; which it sorta is. you came here to forget her, to make yourself feel better. and if that’s with some blonde that lost beer pong with you, you’re okay with that. you think.

you’re honestly not doing a lot of thinking right now. you’re fake laughing at their stupid jokes. you’re repeating ‘right,’ at their never-ending stories. 

you’re being reminded why you picked sam over everyone else. this is draining, a chore to pretend to be interested. there was no pretending with her. her. her. 

holy fuck, you need another drink. 

you excuse yourself, but they follow, still talking to you. they cut themselves off, an enthusiastic ‘hey,’ as their palm on your wrist halts you in the doorway. 

“wh—”

they point up, and you glance. mistletoe. you see it more in movies than in reality, you’re almost amazed by the sight of the small green and red shrubs. to be beneath it with the love of your life— to be beneath it with sam. 

sam isn’t here.

but you are, and so is the blonde.

because why the fuck not, you close the space between you two, a peck on their lips that goes as quickly as it came. but it lasts long enough for her to see it.

the heat rushes to her cheeks, tara not telling her you were occupied with someone else in the urgent message she had sent her. just the fact that you were drinking, and she’s taking your recklessness as confirmation. 

sam ignores the stares as she pushes past the drunken partygoers, remembering exactly why she didn’t come to shit like this. if she wanted to feel judged she would’ve searched her name online, a habit you’ve tried to stop her from doing.

“y/n.”

her voice cuts through the music and chatter, your eyes falling on her in the doorway of the kitchen. you’re leaning against the counter, the blonde in front of you, looking between you two. sam is only looking at them. 

“can you leave us?” it comes out as a demand when she says it, and they don’t protest, both of you now alone when they scurry away.

you gulp at whatever she has to say to you, probably to get scolded for having fun without her. with someone else. despite her harsh words making it seem like that’s what she wanted from you; to find someone else and stop bothering her. 

you laugh dryly to yourself at the thought.

“what was that?”

“what was what?” 

sam exhales through her nose, trying to be patient in a moment she absolutely did not want to be. she will show you some grace due to being buzzed and not entirely there, but that doesn’t change how she feels.

bitter. annoyed. mad, very mad, at you. 

“so we have one argument and that’s it?” she begins to walk toward you, making you feel extremely small the closer she got, and the louder her voice became.

you dare to bite back, “thought that’s what you wanted.”

“why would i want that?”

“because you fucking said so, sam,” you tell her, the woman not realizing the weight of the things she had said until this moment. 

sure, they weren’t the kindest words that had left her mouth, but they were spoken out of fear rather than honesty. unfortunately, you’re not a mind reader, and you have feelings that sam has obliterated. 

“i don’t…” she trails off, a roar from the crowd in the next room causing her to squeeze her eyes in annoyance. “let’s go home. talk there,” sam tells you, hand gently grabbing at yours, but you pull away. 

“you can go home.”

“y/n.”

“im staying, sam. don’t wait up for me,” you push past her, to the fridge you had originally come into the kitchen for. to your luck, there’s one more beer, but it leaves your hands as soon as you grab it. 

sam walks away with the drink, practically shoving it into someone’s welcoming hands, a tight-lipped smile on her face that drops when she faces you again. “guess i am too, then.”

the audacity.

making you feel like shit, pushing you away, then pulling you back in when you find happiness without her. even if it’s stupid decisions like kissing strangers and drinking until your head hurts. it’s a better feeling than being told you’re not wanted by the woman you love the most. 

“fuck you, sam.”

with that, you storm out of the room, out of the house entirely, the freezing december air hitting you at once. you hug yourself, your ugly holiday sweater not providing you the warmth that the frat home had, and drag your feet to the sidewalk. 

you hear her behind you before she makes her presence known. 

“where are you going?” 

“why? gonna follow me?”

once more, her hand finds your arm, a firm grip holding you in place, and a hard stare that goes through you. it causes your attitude retreat, and your confidence to die completely. 

“if you want to be mad at me, fine, but i’m not leaving you alone like this.”

you remain still, eyes falling to your feet because holding her gaze is too overwhelming. she sees through you, gets to you easily like she is now, and why you’re accepting defeat. 

“fine, whatever. let’s go.”

she lets out of a sigh of relief, thankful this wasn’t going to be another argument. she’s too drained for that. her grip on you softens, along with her eyes that scan your face momentarily, like she was taking you in for the first time tonight. red eyes and a cute frown on your face that she wishes she wasn’t the reasoning for.

sam leads you to her car, making sure tara is okay before she leaves, the ride is quiet and uncomfortable. she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at you, your head facing the window, watching the snow begin to fall.

you look at peace, probably the most calm you’ve been since the fight. since she wiped the smile off of your face, replacing your joyful eyes with eyes of pain. her heart begins to hurt.

at a red light, she peels off her jacket, handing it to you without saying anything. you don’t put it on, but you use it as a blanket, inhaling the scent of the cinnamon and sandalwood perfume she drowns herself in. a comforting scent that makes you feel warmer than the jacket itself. 

when you arrive at her place, you’re still clinging to the piece of clothing, sitting on the couch while she makes sure all the locks on the door are secure. you’re mindlessly watching whatever channel on the tv she previously had on, hearing her shuffle in the kitchen.

it’s a few minutes later that she enters the room with two mugs, placing one in your hands. you smell the hot chocolate before she informs you that’s what it is, thanking her before sipping on the sweet drink. 

she sits beside you, leaning forward to grab the remote and mute the television. damn it. 

“can we talk?”

“go ahead,” you mumble, but sam is not as bothered by your subtle attitude. she gets it. she may have acted like it was unwarranted earlier, but you’ve made it very clear she had hurt you. and she deserves the absolute worst for that. 

“what i said to you…i didn’t mean any of it. i was upset— and that’s not an excuse, i know,” she begins, brown eyes trained on her drink, “i just…haven’t loved anyone like this since…”

sam goes quiet, unable to finish that sentence, before speaking again, “and it’s a lot…you’re a lot for me— not in a bad way —it’s just new. and i’m scared im gonna fuck up. i mean i already did.”

she dryly laughs at herself, at the thought of shutting you out to avoid getting hurt and ending up in a much worse position. how she had someone so caring and beyond understanding, and made them feel bad about it. a villain simply for loving her as much as you do— but you’re not one, and you never will be to her.

even now, you have nothing unkind to say to her. you have no desire to even talk about the argument that had taken place. your patience runs deep with samantha, your sympathy outweighing your frustrations.

sam is hurting even more than you, trauma that you couldn’t even begin to understand, insecurities that taint her mindset and your relationship. it’s a problem, you both know this, and you’re still valid for being upset with the words she had spoken due to her own personal complications. words that aren’t true or reflect you at all.

sam will do better for you.

there’s a beat of silence, not nearly as uncomfortable the ride here. the tension is somewhat fleeting, replaced with something else, vulnerability when you both need it.

“so…” you begin, “you love me?”

her head snaps to you, shocked you’re even asking, and that you’re not addressing anything she had said. she doesn’t mind it, though, and answers you.

“so fucking much.”

your cheeks go red at her words, how she means it. sam loves you hard. it is the only reason why you had a fight in the first place.

sam understands it now.

in that part of her brain that is kind to her, in the part that allows her to be in love with you, freely, deeply, openly, like she deserves, ignoring the cruel self-deprecating voices in the back of her mind. 

you end the night with your head on her chest, listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat as you fall asleep cuddled into her body.

[luludeluluramblings]

Hiii! Sorry to bother you, but I just had an idea I wanted to share

Idk if you have a name picked out for the baby yet, but imagine if pregnant reader (assuming she has the same, or at least similar backstory to small town reader) named her son Samuel, after her stepfather?(i think that’s his name?) Can you imagine the angst?

(I’m imagining reader doesn’t mention that they picked a name already while pregnant)

Reader has finally started to get closer to the Batfam, things are finally looking up, and sure it may take a while to fully patch the relationship, but things are better. They have a friendly relationship with all the siblings, they called Jason ‘bro’ a week ago (it was sarcastically, but we can skip over that part), reader has even started hugging Bruce recently! (It was one time, and was incredibly uncomfortable)

Reader gave birth, and after an excruciating stay in the waiting room (reader didn’t want any of them in the room until it was over) they are finally able to see her and the new baby boy. Bruce gets to meet his first grandbaby! And it might be the best moment of his life. The little darling in laying on his mamas chest, looking around with big curious eyes, is the cutest thing in the world!

Reader smiles the biggest, proudest smile Bruce has ever seen, and he thinks it’s the prettiest thing in the world. His baby girl and her baby boy. He’s so happy he can feel tears welling up in his eyes!

“What’s his name?” One of the boys asks

“Samuel!”

And suddenly Bruce’s whole world feels like it’s crumbling down around him

That’s his grandbaby. That’s his daughter. Why does some child stealing, no good, piece of crap get the honor of sharing a name with his grandson. How did he manage to wrangle his way into your son’s life, even after dying so. Many. Years. Ago.

Doesn’t reader care about their family, his family? How could they do this to them, to Bruce? Sure their relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was getting better! How could she just spit on that? After everything he has done and is doing for her benefit and safety!

(Meanwhile reader is completely oblivious to his crisis. Sure, reader’s on better terms with the Batfam than before, but they are at best friendly roommates. Reader fully intends to move out as soon as they physically can, and has no issues with the idea of going no contact with all of them (minus Alfred) if necessary)

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes! It’s the middle of the night and I’m about to go to sleep) hope you’re doing well 🩷

Yooooooooooo! Lois’s dad was apparently named Samuel, plus that sounds like it could be a Kryptonian name (Sam of House El).

The plastic smile on Bruce’s face when he hears his grandchild’s damn name. If the kid doesn’t get a middle name he is so calling the kid Sammy or Sam, ain’t no way he is calling him by the other man’s name.

Or, he could delude himself into thinking it was after Lois father. Just to cope. Like, no it wasn’t named after your step-daddy. It was just Conner wanting to feel included in the Kent family. (The mental gymnastics are Olympic level here.)

Edit: Wait! It’s Jon’s middle name too. Starting to think we can’t use it. Damn, I should’ve double check. Currently in research mode and fact checking things!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Spoiler: We might wanna name the kid Samuel because Bruce is going to fuck up really bad and piss everyone off in Part Four. I just gotta get the balls to write it.

[prettypinkporkchop]

hello

can you write paul x reader

reader is bella older sister

and she is the opposite of bella like she is extroverted and loves fashion and short skirts yk like this vibe (i imagine her like megan fox in jennifer's body) , paul imprinted on her so bad but in the first she wasn't interested in him but than she slowly likes him cuz he always try his best to get her

Heart shaped locket

You stare at Bella as if she is CRAZY! "Shopping? You?" Your eyebrow is raised to the heavens.

Yes, you've already graduated, and you're older than Bella. But let's be real, in this economy, you're staying with your dad, Charlie. Just until you can get on your feet.

Bella laughs and stares off through the kitchen. "Yeah.. yeah I just really have to.. get my mind off of Edward." She sighs.

You roll your eyes. "Bella, how many times do I have to repeat myself? He's ugly. He's weird. And you're still in high school! Let's turn the page, babe." You put a hand on your hip.

She shifts her feet before looking at you sternly. "You've never experienced love."

-----

"Child, can you take this to Billy's? Jake's got mono." You turn from the sink and see your dad on the table, getting ready to leave for work. He's holding a case of beer. "Don't get too close. Me and the man can't hang out until Jake is better." He scratches his beard.

"Okay, dad." You pat his shoulder and grab the case from his hands.

You get in your car and then drive to Billy's house. Gosh, you remember Jake and Bella playing around the mud and pissing you off.

You make it there and knock on the door. You take your top and cover your nose and mouth and then back up a bit.

The door opens, and there stands a smiling Billy. "Kid, you're fine. Uncover your mouth, I'm not sick." He laughs.

You laugh and drop your shirt back on your chest. "If you can't go to the store, then obviously it's serious enough for me to-"

Bella's truck speeds in, parking next to your car. She walks up to you guys. "Where's Jake?" She asks.

Billy looks at you and then her. "He's sick." He says.

Bella pushes past him. "Sorry."

Billy turns, calling her name. You grab the end of your hair and awkwardly play with it. Billy sighs and turns back to face you. Then, you hear whistling. You look over and see the Uley gang.

Next thing, Bella is walking over there.

Oh shit.

"BELLA MARIE!" You call out. You step on the wet grass, following her. Your headband starts falling off, and you stop to adjust it. "Damn it." You hiss.

You hear something from the guys, and you look up. Paul is fuming. You are in fear of Bellas safety so you just drop your headband and run over there.

"Y/n! Bella!" Sam says. "Get back." He warns.

You get next to Bella and grab her arm. But, Paul changes into a wolf. He stomps his feet and roars.

You fall back on the ground with Bella. You look at her. "Really?! Why are you always in shit?!"

Jacob runs out and turns as well. The two wolves fight into the woods. You sigh and stand up, adjusting your skirt and shirt.

"Take them to Emily's." Sam says.

"The wolf's out of the bag." Embry says.

----

"Oh, Emily!" You hug her as you and the three others walk inside the house.

She hugs you back, smiling. "Goodness, y/n. You're adorable as always." She giggles.

"Yeah, well, not feeling it. I just saw dudes shift into wolves, so that was interesting." You reply.

Bella walks in.

"Who's this?" Emily asks.

"Bella, my sister." You roll your eyes.

"Oh, you're the vampire girl." She says.

Vampires?!

"Damn, am I in a movie or something?" You groan and sit at the table where Embry and Jared sit.

The guys and Bella start talking, and you sit and listen. It all makes sense. Geez.

Jacob and Paul come inside, and Jacob tells Bella to go outside with him. Paul sits down, apologizes to Bella, and then eats a muffin.

You look over the guy, observing him. He doesn't see you.

"Does it hurt when you shift?" You ask.

He looks up at you and then stops moving. The muffin he grabbed in his hands fell and crumble on the table. You awkwardly stare back. Embry and Jared start laughing.

Sam walks in, snapping Paul out of it. He looks down at the table and then smiles. "Not too bad." He finally responds.

"It sounds like it hurts."

Sam looks over at Paul and then you.

"Yup, poor guy. He's now locked down." Jared says.

"Huh?" You ask.

"Ignore the boys." Emily says in your ear.

---- (The cullens come back - Eclipse)

You wake up, get dressed, and do your makeup. You're sitting in front of your vanity doing your hair when Bella barges in. You turn to the door and look at her. "What?" You ask.

"Paul wants to see you." She says.

"Uh huh." You reply, turning back to your mirror and doing your hair.

"Jacob says he imprinted on you." She continues.

"Really." You don't care.

"Just talk to the guy." Bella says.

"I don't take orders from girls who wear a flannel every day." You eye her outfit from your mirror.

"Y/n, really. The guy's gonna go insane."

"Fine." You sigh. "I'll text Emily and get his number."

And that, you did. You got his number. You messaged him, "y/n." That was it. But he texted back. You haven't read it yet. You're too busy with your friend, Sandra, shopping.

She holds up a pair of shoes. You think for a minute. "You had to think too long. It's a no." She sets them back down.

Your phone in your purse starts buzzing. You frantically get it and see that it's Paul. "Hang on, love." You tell your friend. You answer it. "Hey."

"Hey, y/n! Are you busy?" He asks.

"Yup! Shopping!"

"Oh, okay! I'll catch you another time." He says.

"No, give me the tea. You've got me all curious." You say.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me today?" He sounds shy.

Which is odd, considering you grew up around them because of your dad being friends with Billy and Harry. Fun fact! You used to help change Seth's diapers.

"Uh.." You look over at Sandra, who's smirking.

"Yes. I can. Where?" You ask.

"A date?" He asks.

"No! No date." You giggle.

"Oh uh.." He sounds awkward.

"We'll just hang out at the beach later." You say.

-----

Paul walks closer to you on the sand. "Hey, beautiful." He smiles.

"Hey." You smile back.

As he gets closer, you feel the warmth. Wolf shit. He opens his arms and wraps you up in a hug. You gently put your hands on his waist and softly pat.

"Alright." You pull away and look at him. "I know you imprinted on me, don't worry, I'm keeping my mouth shut like Bella. But just letting you know, I'm not interested. But I'm we can be friends!" You sit on the sand, crossing your legs.

He sits next to you and looks over your face. "Hmm, is there any way I can change your mind?" He touches your cheek. He moves his face close to yours.

You back away and giggle. "No, sir."

He bites his lip and looks out at the water. "You do realize how an imprint bond works, right?"

"Yup. Sam and Jacob have told all of it. So, I'm willing to be around you any time you need." You pat his bare back. The heat shocks your hand as it was just in the cool air.

You guys sit on the sand and talk about life. He's a very good guy! He's been misunderstood as a person by everyone. Deep down, his heart is big. You've told him about your life, and you two seem to favor each other. But a relationship is not where your head is right now.

----

You stumble on the sidewalk of the city, nearly falling because your heel got stuck on a rock. Paul is quick to grab your waist and hold you up. You look up at him, and his eyes look into yours with adoration.

"Thanks." You smile and hold onto his arm to keep yourself from falling.

"You're welcome, beautiful." He replies.

"Get a room." Jared groans.

Kim, who's on the other side of you, elbows him. You've gotten to know Kim, and she's pretty awesome! You both like the same stuff and hang out a bunch! She invited you to this date but told you Paul begged her to ask you to go.

"It's a nice night. Look at the moon!" Kim gasps.

You look up and see it's full and glowing. "Ooh! Perfect time to take selfies." You turn to her.

She smiles and grabs your arm. You two turn around, and she holds up her phone. You two pose in front of the moon and take pictures as it shines beautifully behind you guys.

Paul watches with his arms crossed. He's so mesmerized. You feel his eyes on you, but you're not paying it any attention. Jared touches his shoulder. Paul snaps out of it and looks at him.

----

You are listening to music and applying your face mask when your door opens. You jump up and look to see your dad.

"Oh, hey, dad." You say.

"Hey, child." He walks in the room and stands next to your vanity where you're sitting. He sets something down on the desk.

You look down and see a rose and a jewelery box. You look up at him, and he crosses his arms.

"Paul Lahote sent these." Charlie says.

You don't respond and look back down at the rose and box.

"I remember being in my twenties and being in love. I had that guy energy." He flexes his arm.

You start laughing and look back in the mirror. "Yeah, well, I'm not into him." You reply.

"Still focused on getting into that school?" He asks.

"Yup! Just one more week and I'll get my letter." You smile up at him.

"Well, if I know anything, you're smart and very driven. I'm always proud of you." He taps your vanity desk before walking out of your room.

You sigh and then wipe off your hands. You reach over to the box and open it up. You gasp at the ring and blink your eyes a few times. Your heart flutters at the fact that Paul knew what to pick for you. It's a touch of him and you. You put the ring on your middle finger.

-----

You sit at the restaurant with your group of girls. There's Chapen, who is a skater type girl, Lilly, she's a nerd, Sandra, she's the diva. She was a bitch cheerleader but kept her cool with you and Lilly. Plus, you were well liked in school. Everyone wanted to be like you. Every guy wanted you. You're used to that but never give in to them. All you want is to go to school, get your job, and then move out of your dad's.

"Please, he's so fine." Sandra looks back at the waiter.

Lilly groans and leans her head back. "Sandra, stop."

"No, you want to know fine? Embry Call." Chapen bites her burger and wiggles her eyebrows.

"Mid." You reply.

"Oh, but you've got Lahote pining for you." Sandra bumps her shoulder into yours.

"Y/n! Really?" Lilly sits up with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, that's true." You shrug it off.

"God, he's so hot!" Lilly giggles.

----

You walk into Emily's house with Bella. Harry Clearwater just passed and shits going down with a redhead who wants to eat up your sister.

You notice Seth and Leah have shifted too. They both look good! Seth smiles when he sees you and hugs you.

Leah looks pissed off , and you don't blame her. The whole Sam shit plus losing her dad? Damn.

You walk to the dining table and sit down next to Quil, who you've never even met before!

"So, Quilister." You joke.

"I kind of fuck with that nickname." He nods.

Paul comes up behind you and grabs your shoulders. His hands slide down your arms. One hand stops at your elbow, and the other one moves to your hand with the ring he gave you. He touches your fingers. You instantly get goose bumps, and your face heats up.

He notices and leans down to your ear. "You're beautiful."

You gulp.

The rest of the night was fire! You ended up getting shit faced. You, Kim, Emily, and Billy got drunk drunk. Bella and Jacob left after the fire and you don't really care where they went lol.

You slump back on the couch and close your eyes, spinning.

"Y/n, you can stay here tonight if you want." Emily offers.

"No, I'm gonna go to my bed." You smile and then stand up. You're all wobbling.

Paul grabs your waist to help you steady. "I'll drive you." He says.

You press your back into him and look up at his face. "Ya know, I'd let you-", his hand goes over your mouth.

"Alright." He laughs awkwardly and walks you outside.

You sit in your seat and just stare up out of the window. Paul pulls into your house. Your dad is gone at work, and Bella's truck isn't there.

"Is your room upstairs?" Paul asks.

"Yeah, she sure is." You wink at him.

He gets out and pulls you out of your car. You steady yourself and then bend down to take off your shoes.

"They're hurting me." You say.

Paul moves your hands and bends down. "Put your hands on my shoulders." He says.

You do as told, and he takes off your shoes. Then, he lifts you bridal style and goes into the house. He walks you up into your room and gently places you on the bed.

"Paul, don't go." You give him puppy eyes.

"Baby, I have to. I need to protect you. I always will." He touches your cheek.

You rest your face in his hand and then nod your head.

-----

You sit in the bathtub and think about how good Paul was to you last night. You embarrassed yourself, but he was so kind and gentle. You catch yourself looking at the ring on your finger.

Three knocks on the door make you jump. "Yeah?" You call out.

"Hurry up. I have to pack shit to go stay with Alice." You hear Bella call out.

But you know the plan. Her and Edward are staying at the house while everyone else does some shit. Paul has asked you to stay on his land at his house, but you refused.

"Alright, sister. Just a second!" You hurry and finish yourself up and step out. You have a towel wrapped around you and you open the door.

She jumps back and looks at you. "Sorry for interrupting. Are you going to the reservation?" She walks in and grabs her toothbrush and shit.

"Nah." You reply.

"You have to. You're in danger." Bella looks at you.

"Pookie, I stay out of shit unlike you. She wants you, not me." You scoff.

"Well, it'll make me and Paul feel better." She says.

"Fine. I'll go."

----

Paul opens his front door and guides you inside. It's so manly in here. It's clean but like.. manly. It smells like Paul. It's dark with a single lamp on.

"Where do you want your bags?" He asks, holding them up.

"Uhm, the couch." You smile.

He nods his head and gently sets them down on the cushions. "You know you're sleeping in my bed tonight. I'll be out all night. This couch isn't comfortable. I won't let you sleep here." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Nahhhh, I'm good. I brought my pillow and blanket. I'll make due." You smile.

"Whatever you say, princess." He looks at the kitchen and then smiles. "I got your favorite snacks in there and your favorite drinks. Just make yourself at home." He steps closer to you. "And if you need anything, say my name." He says softly.

You nod your head and blush again. Noooo, why does he keep doing this?!

That night on the couch, you were tossing and turning. You couldn't get comfortable and just kept going back on your phone to watch makeup tutorials. But now you're just too tired. You give up and go into Paul's room.

You lay down on his bed and are so shocked at how comfortable and cloudy it is! You lay your head down on a pillow. Oh gosh, it smells like him. But you feel something underneath you. You pull it out and look. It's a silver necklace with a heart locket. You open the locket, and it has your first initial and a 'P'. You turn on your back and clutch it in your hand.

You jump up from a nightmare of being bitten by Miss Redhead. You're breathing hard and then get out of bed. You go into the living room and see a peaceful sleeping Paul. You gently touch his shoulder. "Paul?"

He groans and opens his eyes before sitting up. "Hey, beautiful. You okay?" He looks over you. His eyes stop at your check and you look down. The necklace.

"Yeah, just surprised you're home. I had a nightmare." You sigh.

He smiles and then pulls you on him. He holds you tightly, and it takes you back for a minute. You end up settling on his chest and feel his body on yours. You feel in the moment and close your eyes in feeling of peace and safety.

"I won't be here long. We have to go to battle." He rubs your back.

You look up at his face. "Will you be okay?"

He smiles and nods his head. "I always am. I'm Paul Lahote." He laughs.

Your eyes move from his and to his lips. He notices and starts to lean in. You back away and then stand up. "Sorry, uh." You chuckle.

"Hey, it's okay." His eyes scan you.

----

You sit on his bed, painting your nails, waiting for him to come back. Bella doesn't have her phone, but you know she's in the snow with Edward.

You're nervous as shit! You're starting to realize the more you hang out with Paul and see how sweet he is, you're falling.

You know if he's alive, he promised to be home yesterday or tonight. He didn't come yesterday. You're freaking out. You've been texting and calling Kim and Emily.

You sit back and let your nails dry. You turn on a murder mystery video on his TV. Finally, your phone rings, and you jump up, knocking your nail polish all over the bed. "Fuck!" You answer your phone. "Emily?"

"Everyone is at Billy's. Everyone is safe. Jake got hurt, but stay there, Paul will be there shortly." She says all bubbly.

Your heart skips, and you want to scream of happiness! Paul is okay and coming back. Oh yay, Bella is, too... and Edward.

You clean up all of your nail polish and wipe it down with your nail polish remover. You run to his washer and throw it in there, replacing his blanket with yours. Yeah, it's girly, but it's okay!

The door opens, and you quickly go in there. Paul.

You watch as he smiles at the ground, breathing. "It smells like you and rubbing alcohol." He finally looks up and laughs.

You squeal and jump on him. He holds onto you, chuckling and burying his face in your shoulder. You run your hands through his hair, softly gripping onto it.

"Miss me?" He asks.

"Yes." You breathe out. "Thank you for coming back." You catch yourself saying that, and you blush. He sets you down and looks at you, grabbing your face. "I spilled nail polish on your blanket. It got it off but it's in the washin-"

Paul's lips press on yours, shutting you up. You crumble in his touch and give in, kissing back. One hand grabs your waist, and the other touches the necklace he left for you. His fingers slightly graze on your collarbone. He pulls back, and you don't want him to stop. You grab his neck, pulling him down for more. He grabs your bottom to lift you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you into his bedroom.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

teen dad sam monroe and reader would definitely argue when it came to naming the baby. i’m imagining it like that one scene from glee with quinn and puck, it would be a funny imagine.

Quinn: you wanna name our daughter Jack Daniel’s? she’s a girl!

Puck: Fine, whatever, Jackie Daniel’s

Author's note: it's so sam coded I fell in love

You were sitting across from Sam in your cramped, barely-put-together living room, surrounded by baby name books and crumpled scraps of paper covered in doodles and crossed-out lists. Naming your baby girl had become an all-out battlefield—and Sam was determined that his names were the best.

“Okay, hear me out,” Sam said, leaning forward with this excited gleam in his eyes you kept seeing for what felt like hours now. “How about… Raven Storm?”

You just stared at him, pressing your fingers to your sore temples. “Sam, she’s a baby girl, not a rock band.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, but it’s a strong name. Memorable, you know? Like, people would be talking about Raven Storm for years.”

You sighed, trying to keep your patience. “Sam… please. She’s a girl.”

“Oh, okay, I get it, I get it,” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, then Maximus Danger Monroe.” he grinned proudly

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Maximus Danger?” you echoed in judgmental tone

“Exactly. It’s strong, it’s powerful, it's cool. Imagine her introducing herself—no one’s gonna mess with Maximus Danger.”

you bore your eyes on him, already tired (yet surprised) of all the names he had brought up over the last hours “What? It’s amazing,” he insisted, folding his arms with a pout. “You don’t get it, these are strong names! They’ll protect her.”

“She’s a baby, not an action hero!” you replied, surpassingly trying not to laugh at his pout, his incredibly devoted expression. Yet, it's meant to be a girl, not an alien. "We are the ones who should protect her, not some weird name"

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you don’t like ‘Danger,’ maybe something more classic. Chardonnay.” He smirked, clearly testing you now

You sighed, counting to five in your head to ease down. “Oh my god.." you sighed "Sam,” you began again, slowly (this time), to make sure it gets right into his head “You want to name our daughter after wine?”

“No, okay, I’m serious!” he insisted “What about… Scarlett Raven Monroe?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Sam…”

“Phoenix Blaze?” he added, trying to up the ante. “It’s unique!”

You buried your face in your hands, half-pleading. “Please, just one normal name. Something cute, simple. Like Lily, or Emma…”

He scoffed. “Lily? She’s gonna have enough flowers in her life. I’m telling you, we’re gonna regret not picking something that stands out.”

“Fine,” you said with a long sigh, trying not to smile as you leaned over and squeezed his hand. There was no way you'd fight him about the name - not with his stubborn character “We’ll work on a compromise then”

Sam smirked. “Good. I knew you’re smarter than this. But, you know, Phoenix is still on the table…" to which you shot him a glare

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