#shes a fucking miracle worker

[xysidhequeen]

Did Jason open up his trauma to Jazz? Since she is the group team mom

Oh my Ancients, yes. She cracked that boy open like a walnut. It took a bit, but Jazz reminds him somewhat of Barbara and Harley, so he warmed up to her fairly quickly overall. She really taught him what it's like to have a big sibling(sorry, I love Dick but he was a shit older brother before Jason died).

Jason will talk to Jazz about things he'd never say to anyone else. He actually opens up to Ember and Kitty too, but they're more for when he wants someone to cry with and to have get all enraged on his behalf. Jazz is who he talks to when he wants to fix it.

It wasn't always like that. He had to learn how to differentiate. Had to learn when he needed help, when he had things that needed to be fixed. He had to unlearn the emotional constipation and phobia of talking about his feelings he learned from Bruce too. But Jazz is used to dealing with teenage boys who won't admit they're hurting even on pain of death. She's good at subtly working their pain out and helping them confront it. (She learned a lot from helping Danny and from her Psych classes so she's more crafty about it too)

Jazz is one of the biggest reasons Jason is as stable and emotionally healthy as he is. He's not healed completely. He won't be until he gets closure with Bruce and the Joker. And there's some things that will always stick around. Trauma leaves scars. But without Jazz, we wouldn't have the Jason we do in TKAHRK we'd have someone far closer to the Jason from UTRH.

[violetnaps]

ughhh the arrancars are fun but i hate how this arc treats orihime so fucking much

[monty-glasses-roxy]

I suppose if I go with the 'Roxy patches structural holes with random ass scrap' that means that the colours of all of them could be different in certain places and not just the Wet Floor Bot's. Like a maintenance panel being bright pink or entire limb casings recreated with metal

She can't do that for herself because someone would notice and she'd get in trouble but in terms of the little guys? It could really help emphasis the 'found destroyed in the basement' vibe whilst also making their designs like three times cooler

[boyapologist]

guess who had a panic attack mid embarking because we we're completely out of bin space and passanger were yelling and cursing me

[phagodyke]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[exactoknife]

its just like. if your child is actively struggling to read at a kindergarten level when they're supposed to be moving on to second grade... WHAT is so wrong with you that you do not want them to receive tutoring to help them get better. at fucking. READING

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. ��How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[divinesolas]

Shots

summary: you’ve been best friends with jacaerys since you were children but due to his recent girlfriend you two have barely spent anytime together. You two are forced back into the same space when you attend cregan starks party and tensions rise

r.q: Nothing specific but please give more modern jace w smut. Your work is so gooddd 😩

w.c: 2k

c.w: porn with a little plot, a little angst, modern!college!cregan, modern!college!jace x reader, cregan the miracle worker, oral (f!receiving), protected sex (WRAP IT UP!), not proofread

a.n: i have a couple requests im supposed to get done before this but when i saw this in my inbox it wouldn't leave my mind 😭 love you guys hope you enjoy 🫶

You didnt want to come to this party tonight but cregan had practically begged you to come.

‘i dont know cregan.’ you had told him while walking out of your shared lab class. ‘oh come on itll be fun,’ he pauses and thinks for a moment before having a devious grin on his face. ‘if youre worried about it i promise you wont see jace. he said hes busy’ you eye him and he swears hes not lying so you shrug and tell him sure you’ll be there leading him to hug you before running off.

its not like you hated jacaerys, you couldnt the two of you are best friends. Well you're currently unsure of how the two of you stand, his current girlfriend seemed so determined to be rid of you and you didn't want to get in the way you backed off not wanting her to feel uncomfortable but its since left you feeling strange.

You should feel happy for him, he's found someone he seems to like but instead you’re left with a sharpness in your chest anytime you think about him and someone else. You like him. No maybe you love him but he clearly doesn't seem to like you like that so you can never tell him that. You're happy he isn't at this party and is busy doing whatever he’s doing. You decided you need to take your mind off him, you can keep yourself stuck in your head over this and you certainly cant be crushing on a taken man.

Now youre stuck talking with this guy, something Lannister you don't even know his name, but he seems more than eager to be talking with you and for that a part of you is grateful you didn’t have to work to hard to get a guys attention.

“Wheres the bathroom?” “Ill take you to one.” He grabs your hand harshly and begins to lead you to the staircase. You tug at the hand hes stuck holding and attempt to get him to let go telling him you dont need him to hold you. He says something about it just being quicker and you should just follow him. This rings alarms in your head and now your gripping the rail and forcefully trying to get out of his grip. “get the fuck off me!” “just shut the fuck up and come with me.”

“What the fuck do you think your doing man?” Your eyes widen in shock at his voice as the lannister scoffs at him, “just trying to take the lady to the restroom velaryon.” “she doesn't wanna go with you man let her go. and theres not a bathroom up there.” He walks up to the other guy and shoves him back his hand lets go of yours and with your new freedom and you quickly put a distance between you two. The lannister mumbles some shit under his breath and ends up walking upstairs alone, “she isnt even worth it.”

“are you okay?” jace quickly rushes back over to you and grabs your hand check it looking at you alarmed. “im okay thank you jace.” He lets out a sigh of relief and takes a step back running a hand through his hair. You just stare at him and your heart races, god hes so hot wearing just a pair of shorts and an open white button up with his whole chest out, the necklace you had given him for his birthday a couple years ago sits nicely on his chest, his hair is wet and even so is his chest leading you to realize he had been out in the pool. He was at this fucking party. Cregan that fucking asshole. “i thought you weren't coming.”

He tilts his head at you and shakes his head, “who told you that?” “Cregan.” He hums and turns away for a second mumbling some stuff under his breath you swear you hear something about cregan being an ass before turning back to you. “He must have gotten the dates mixed up.” All you can do is nod and play with your fingers, its awkward. You have never felt awkward around jace so this was different, of course your own feelings have to come around and ruin everything. While you look down at your hands you dont notice that hes just staring at you with a starry eyes. “You want a drink?”

You look up at him and you feel hot finally noticing his gaze on you, “sure.” The two of you make your way to the kitchen where you walk past cregan who gives you a wink as you walk by that fucking asshole, what was he even trying to do? As you watch jace you cant help yourself, “hows… oh whats her name?” you mumble the last part under your breath unable to even remember the poor girls name. He just hums and hands you a cup, “Claire? Oh we broke up.” you gasp and look at him shocked, “oh my god im so sorry.” he smiles at you and shakes his head easily tossing the shot into his mouth. “She cheated on me, you know that guy mason,” “the guy in the photography course?” “yeah with him,” “he looks like her cousin,” “thats because he is her cousin.” you gasp in horror on of you hands flying to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh.

He laughs, and makes a fist to cover his mouth, all you can think about is how beautiful he is, “You can laugh you know its funny.” with his permission you dub over with a laugh and shake your head, “thats unbelievable.” “imagine my shock!” “Im still sorry by the way, thats really shitty.” He continues to look out in the distance as he takes other shot, “its alright love i was gonna dump her anyway.”

You take a sip from your cup and just watch him, “why? thought you liked her?” For the first time in awhile he looks over at you and you take notice of the affectionate look in his eyes as he smiled softly at you. “i realized i liked somebody else.” “Ah.” you look away and you feel him move closer to you and grab you chin to look at him. “You wanna know who?” “Jace..” Hes standing so close you can smell his cologne, his hand leaves you chin and runs down your arm. “Ive known her for a long time but i only just realized how much i love her, I’ve been a fool.”

You kiss him, reaching your hands to cup his cheeks, he deepens the kiss his hands grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him pressing you directly against him. You dont know how long youve been standing there just kissing him, when you two pull away to take a breath you can hear a get a room from someone who walks by and you remember youre just standing in some random guys kitchen and press your head into his neck. “this is so embarrassing.” he just laughs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You wanna come back to mine?” His implications are very clear to you especially as you feel his hardness pressing against you, you nod.

Not even thirty minutes later he had you laid out bare on his bed, his mouth latched onto your clit leaving you desperately clinging onto his hair as you throw your head back, “jace.” he hums as he brings one of his hands down to play with your folds as his other stays firmly on your stomach pressing you down onto the mattress.

as you get closer your hands stray from his hair and fist the newly washed sheets under you as you continue to call out his name. you've been with a couple guys in the past but none pf them compared to how jace had been making you feel, none of them made you quiver and shake when you came like he did. he mouth finally detaches from you and he sits up looking at you while licking his lips. “That good?” You slap his chest and continue to take some deep breaths, “fuck you.” “i will i promise.”

His shirt and shorts had been thrown off somewhere, probably out laying in his hallway along with your clothes. He quickly slides a condom on before climbing on top of you so his necklace is dangling in front of you. “You good?” you nod at him and he kisses down your neck and leaves kisses all over your breasts. “Need you jace.”

“you need what baby?” you groan as you feel him push his dick between you fold lightly rubbing up and down. “Please jace.” “what is it? tell me and ill do anything for you.” He looks at you expectantly and you let out a strained moan as you begin to beg him, “please fuck me jace please please.” he hums happily and quickly readjusts himself, “You only needed to ask baby.”

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as he thrusts into you, as your hands grip his his back and running down it as he continues to thrust, thats definitely going to leave a mark. but based on the hiss and groans he lets out that tells you he likes it.

You swear youve never felt so good, he continues to hit the deepest and sweetest parts of you. He fucks you so fast and hard you're shocked the bed under you stays intact, he brings one of his hands down to your clit and your hands dig into his lower back and you cant help but press your head to his shoulder. “Jace fuck jace.” your mouth his muffled against his skin but he acknowledges you by bringing his lips to yours into a harsh kiss matching the thrusts of his hips. “Wanted this for so long jace.” he groans and you swear he somehow begins to move faster, “me too baby me too, now that i have you ill never let you go,” he licks at the sweat that has dripped his way to you neck and his hands move to grip your waist, “gonna fuck you everyday, i promise fuck best pussy in the world.”

You whimper at his words and your head is once against pressed against his shoulder, “im so close.” “cum for me baby please i need to feel it,” he hisses as he feels you bite into his shoulder and his eyes rolls back into head, “im right behind you fuck cum please.”

“i love you.” the words leave you easily as you cum. He cums at the sensation of you releasing, “fuck i love you.” leaving him twitching and still as he huffs and puffs, out of breath. he pulls out with a hiss and lets out an apology as he sees you wince, he climbs out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, getting rid of his condom and coming back with a towel cleaning you and him up before climbing into bed next to you.

“fuck that was good.” the two of you laugh and you roll yourself to look at him. “did you mean it?” he hums and draws shapes on your stomach, “mean what?” “that you love me?” He looks at you with a dumbfounded look, “are you serious?” you rolls your eyes and try to turn away but he grabs you and pulls you close to him pressing your face against his chest, “of course i love you you idiot.” you smile and press a kiss on his chest before you fall asleep.

when you wake up the next morning and check you phone you see some text from cregan from last night.

‘saw you leave with jace just now 😁’

‘you’re welcome you bitch 🫶’

[cryptidghostgirl]

Lovely (Lucifer x Reader)

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Description: Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

Warnings: Same angst, new target.

Word Count: 1,631

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N This fic is inspired by Spud Cannon's song Lovely. Also don't mind me and my silly little Latin obsessed brain (Lucifer translates to light bringer and is a combination of the latin verb ferre, to bring, and lux, light. I fuck around with that in this.)

That was what had drawn her to him first: the elegance. Lucifer was a graceful man, a beautiful man, a terribly sad person. In retrospect, that should have been Y/n's sign to take a step back but, it is always so difficult to find the right path in the moment. He had seemed so utterly heartbroken, because, as she now knew, he was so utterly heartbroken, and Y/n had thought: maybe I can help?

Her motivations had just been that at first, helping. It wasn't her fault that he was charming and funny and did things that made her want to be more than friends with him with such alarming regularity that it felt like her life was the worst rollercoaster at an amusement park. The one with eight billion sharp turns and uncomfortable seats that left rider's tailbones bruised. It was almost too much to bear.

Lucifer had heard rumors of the demon who had been gifted with the ability to alter people's memories. It had never been gossip that had interested him much until Lilith had left. Suddenly, his mind had felt like a curse. In the throws of despair, he had looked for her, hunted her down. It hadn't take long, he was Lucifer after all. When he was the one asking the questions, few dared to defy.

The shop was a hole in the wall, drenched in the smell of incense and covered in crystals and other odd objects of curiosity. Lucifer could've sworn he recognized the imp horns on the wall but, ignored it. He was there for a reason and asking questions like that were not the path to his end goal.

The demon herself, the famed mystery, was statuesque. She had sat her table in the back of the shop, draped in jewelry made of bones and gold. She had gifted him the first session free of charge.

In order to keep the pain at bay, Lucifer had been required to come to her shop at least once a month. Y/n was a comfort to him, he associated her with the feeling of relief. The two became fast friends.

"Light bringer." she would beckon him in with a smile, "Still counting those forget-me-nots?"

She spoke to him in Latin, in his first eternal language. She weaved images in the air with the smoke from her fires. She was amazing, a miracle worker. Lucifer was grateful for her, for her skill.

Y/n knew the truth behind it. She tried to ignore it, tried to still her raging heart. She knew it was doomed, had seen with her own eyes the way he was still so in love with someone else. Still, when he had asked her on that first date, a year into them knowing one another, she hadn't been able to bring herself to refuse. He had been so sweet, so earnest, so cheesy. He had asked her to be his and she had told him the truth: she already was.

It was a constant state of denial, one big, overwhelming lie she convinced herself was true. In the beginning, Lucifer had been a doting partner. He surprised her with flowers, he always tried to make her smile. It had all stopped the day she had told him she couldn't use her gift on him anymore.

"Why not?" he has asked, alarmed.

"Because, Ferende Lucem (man bringing light), it's not healthy. I can't make things go away forever, just hide them. You still need to deal with them eventually."

Y/n had thought it was time, had figured that two years of dating and three years of knowing one another would be enough. She had been wrong. Lucifer had ceased in his affections in all but name. No longer was she whisked away to the palace, no longer did she wake to one of his creations on her bedside table.

After about a month, she had decided to take things into her own hands. She refused to recede into the gaps he was creating, refused to just let this all go. Y/n loved him, truly. She wouldn't let the love die without a fight.

The palace guards knew her well, had let her in without question. After some searching, Y/n had found Lucifer locked away in his office. The place smelled of despair. He didn't turn from his empty desk at the sound of the door opening.

"Light Bringer." Y/n hummed softly, rapping a knuckle on the already open door, "Counting your forget-me-not's?"

She hadn't asked him that in years, not since before they had gotten together. He lifted his head from his hands, looking over his shoulder just the slightest bit.

"Malefica (witch)." he replied, his voice low and hollow.

Y/n smiled softly at the pet name and entered the room, letting the door stand open in her wake. She approached him, wrapping her arms around his tired shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Please." Lucifer's voice cracked, "Please take them from me. It's too much, they're too heavy."

Y/n didn't reply, simply nestling her chin into his hair.

"Y/n, please."

"You know I can't do that." she sighed, "It's not healthy."

"This is what is not healthy."

Y/n let go of him and turned his chair so they faced one another. She kneeled down on the ground before him, clasping his hands in her own. His eyes were ringed with red. In that moment, they weren't a fallen angel and a demon, they were just two people. Two people in love and two people housing broken hearts they lied to themselves to stitch back together.

"Lucifer." her eyes searched his face.

It was rare she called him by his true name. The gravity of the moment clung to their skin.

"Lucifer, what am I to you?"

He looked away. Y/n sighed, her heart cracking straight down the middle within the confines of her chest.

"Can I..." she cleared her throat, steeling her nerves, "Am I ever going to be what you're looking for?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped back to Y/n.

"You are what I'm looking for." he insisted, taking his trembling hands from hers and cupping them gently around her face, "You, Y/n, are my sweet little magician, my salve."

"My magic is, you mean."

Lucifer had always been a terrible liar. It was one of the things Y/n loved about him, the way the truth bubbled to the surface of his being. Right now, she wished he could be the best liar on the planet, the best in all of Hell. Right now, she wished she could've been born blind.

Y/n got to her feet, Lucifer's hands hanging in the air where they had held her last. There was no more running, no more hiding from the truth. This was the precipice, the breaking point, the fall.

"You're my salve." he repeated again, his voice soft and sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as much as he was trying to get through to her.

"Don't lie to me." Y/n demanded, tears pressing behind her eyes, "Don't. Just... just don't."

Oh how she wished she could turn back time, set the clocks to zero.

"You never loved me, did you?"

The question hung unanswered in the air. Y/n had known it for a long time, had known it since the beginning to be perfectly honest but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She was dazed, spinning, out of control.

"You don't love me."

"I wish I could. I'm..."

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and holding back tears. She looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll see myself out, I guess."

She hoped he'd call out for her, run after her into the hallway, ask if they could try again could start over. Of course Lucifer did no such thing.

For all the things she had helped her clients forget over the years, Y/n understood them even more now than she ever had before. It was complicated. Now she was going to have to reshape her life. If she ever saw him in the street, it would be her duty to pretend she didn't know him. The memories spawned the terror of potential futures, dreams where things worked out, where everything was okay. They sent her mind reeling.

She had known, all along she had feared the worst and feared confirmation of her knowledge. That was the worst part, it hadn't even been a surprise. It had simply been just that, a confirmation of the truth.

The world caved in around her as she walked home, houses and shops and people all blurring together into something undistinguished and undefinable.

Lovely, that's what he was. In all his misfortune, in all his despair, in all his grace. Lovely but oh god, oh god he didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way she loved him.

Y/n pulled the curtains shut to her little shop, moving methodically and without thought. She sat down at the table in the back, before the pot of incense. She lit it.

Not once in all her years had she ever tried to do use her magic on herself. It seemed like a line in the sand, something utterly forbidden. Y/n shut her eyes.

When she reopened them, the world felt different. Time had passed, she could tell it had but her mind refused to give shape to the years.

"So this is what it must feel like." she mumbled aloud, noticing the remnants of her ritual spread out on the table before her, "I wonder what happened."

[novalpha]

𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor || ⸙ On hold ||

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love café ♡ ୨୧ ★✦ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Miracle Bunny ♡୨୧★⌗⸙ -> @caramellohigh

synopsis: Minghao impulsively adopts a hybrid for you and you hate him for it. But after getting to know your new hybrid, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You’ve gained a new friend, a companion and… perhaps more?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ illicit whispers ♡★ -> @httphannie

summary: yoon jeonghan's wanted in almost every country but there's no denying that he's handsome so should it come as a surprise when you end up in his prison cell?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ KIDULT ♡✹୨୧ -> @hvae

synopsis: jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The selfish dilemma ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @joonsytip

Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ How to give a blowjob for dummies ♡୨୧★ -> @multiland

summary: your friendship with Jeonghan takes a turn the day the two of you cross the line when he decides to teach you how to give a blowjob, despite your promises of everything staying the same. Tired of waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, you decide to go on dates. Needless to say, he doesn't like it one bit.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In her shadow ♡୨୧★⌗✹ -> @hoshzone

summary: you never were the one to fall in love but, just when you think you might’ve found the one, he turns out to be your estranged bitch of a sister’s fiancé. you and jeonghan both know better but, he can’t help but wish he’d met you first, thinking you’re a far better match for him than she’d ever be. #trusttheprocessordon’t…

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Little miss naughty ♡★ -> @hoshzone

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Holidate ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus

synopsis: It's only for a week, he's doing you a favor, and he's your fake boyfriend. Why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fall back down to earth with you ♡୨୧ -> @97-liners

Synopsis: in which your manager, jeonghan, thinks it’ll be good publicity for you to date hollywood actor and notable heartthrob, joshua hong. of course, everything would be nice and easy if you ended up falling in love with your fake boyfriend joshua, but life is complicated, and your heart ends up pulling you in another direction completely.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cigarettes and coffee ♡★୨୧ -> @gyukult

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Responsibly irresponsible: white shoes ♡୨୧ -> @twogyuu

Synopsis: Seemingly exciting at first, Jeonghan slowly comes to realize that being a dad is more than meets the eye, especially when he meets your mother (unexpectedly) for the first time. Did you mention? She doesn't know you're pregnant.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Inflection point ♡★୨୧ -> @lovelyhan

summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ It's nice to have a friend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi

You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband.

What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sweater paws ♡★ -> @duhnova

synopsis: your soft and cuddly virgin boyfriend isn’t so soft and innocent when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a wet dream

[ More Jeonghan fic recs will be updated. So do check this post once in a while ;) ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click Here

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

[fandomtherapy44]

Congrats you're a dad! Dean x reader one shot!

Summary: Dean Winchester the man who came and went that seemed like in a blink of an eye. But he left some thing behind your Daughter.

Paring: Dean x reader

word count: 2.4k

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

Warnings: swearing, MILD SMUT, Feelings all around

AN/ So I got very inspired by seeing posts of how Dean deserved to be a dad! Here is my story of that and this would take place after season 15 so he is alive and happy! Hope you enjoy!

Six Years since I last saw Dean Winchester, the man that came and left in an blink of an eye. The charming yet somewhat earnest type that I always fell for helped that he was hot as hell. Those crystal green eyes, white prince smile, glitter freckle kissed skin that almost made you believe in miracles. I was the waitress at the restaurant where he and his partner went every night while they were in town trying to find a missing person and thankfully they did but with that came a goodbye. But he did leave me with something, not an std but our daughter.

I wanted to tell him so many times but how was I supposed to tell this barely a familiar hook up that he had a kid. When he left he told me that he liked me and maybe if he was staying around we could try something but he wasn't. I found out I was pregnant with Bella two weeks later. So was I really going to tell a guy I didn't even really know that he was a dad and potentially ruin his career and break my heart if he told me to screw off. The answer was no.

So here I was six years later with the best little girl in the world and trying my best. “Hey mom could you please pick Bella up? I have to pick up this shift.” I was balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear while my hands were full of plates of food while I was widing through the sticky tables. “Of course sweetie I'll see you at eight.” My mom has been my biggest supporter since the day I was pregnant.”Ok thank you so much love you bye oh and don’t let her eat so much ice cream again she threw up all over the couch last time.” “I'm her grandma, I'm supposed to spoil her.” “Bye Mom.” I said in a loving jokey way. 

It was almost seven thirty when I was walking up to my table and had just gotten satten. I was carrying two glasses of water to the table when I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again. “Oh Hey Y/n right? You're still working here, that's cool.” I look up and drop the water. It was Dean fucking Winchester. “Whoa you okay?” he swooped down to help pick up the pieces of now broken glasses. I can’t even look at him. “Hey Y/n” He grabbed my hand I didn’t realize but it was bleeding. “Are you okay?” I barely get a word out. “Hey can I get a towel or bandaid please!?”

He called out and a co-worker ran over. “Is she okay?” “Dean, I'm fine.” My friend’s eyes widened knowing that name. “Uh, why don't you take a break? I'll bring more waters” I begged with my body for her to stay but she ignored me knowing that was not her place. We sat down in the booth. I kept staring at my bloody hand hoping it was a terrible nightmare but then he spoke again.

“I know it's been a while since I've been here but I swear that I had good reason to. I had to take care of something that took longer than expected. I wanted to come back. I've missed this place, you.” My heart flutters a little. “It’s okay not like you had something to come back to.” I know that’s a little harsh but I was trying to drive him away as quickly as possible. “Well you're here and I don’t know about you but I had an amazing time when I was last here.”

My head flashed back to that night the last night he was here we were together for hours in the sheets. It wasn't just sex but we talked about our hopes and dreams. Maybe that's why I wanted to talk to him a little longer. “I guess you're right it wasn’t half bad.” I smirked. “Half Bad? Excuse me but I believe you were the one begging for more-” Before he can go on I kick him. “Fine, you were great, happy.”

“Very happy, hey did you ever go to college for acting.” what? He remembered my dream not even boyfriends who had been with me for a long time remembered that. “I can't believe you still know that.” “How could I forget, your face lit up talking about it every time.” We both smiled thinking about those times. But the air froze when we heard another voice. “Mommy! I can’t wait to show you my drawing!” Bella ran over and jumped in my lap. I looked at the clock and it was eight fifteen, shit.

“Oh, baby I'm sure it's so beautiful I'll look at home okay.” “But Mommy!” I started to try to get up but being a six year old she was dragging her feet. “But Momma!” “Bella! Let's go!” I hated it when my yelling voice came out. I finally looked at Dean and he looked like he had been slapped in the face. “Hey mister, would you like to see?” She asked Dean kindly like I had taught her. “Bella he's busy-” “I would love to.” She pulled out a picture and it was a drawing of a family.

“You see that's me and mommy and that's grandma.” He nods looking out the picture. “It's really good, Hey do you have a daddy Bella?” He asked the question I had been fearing. “No, I don’t.” She answered so quickly and without thought it broke my heart. “And how old are you Bella?” “I’m this many” She holds up six fingers. Dean just sits there thinking. “Bella, could you go back to your grandma?” She seems sad. “You can get ice cream!” I tried. Of course, she jumps up and runs to the counter. I sit back down at the booth sighing. “Dean I-” he holds up his hand with tears in his eyes. “I just have one question. Is she my daughter?” “Yes.”

It had been at least twenty minutes. I broke the ice. “Dean, I don't even know where to start.” “How about you start why you kept my fucking child away from me?” He was mad of course who wouldn't be. “Dean you have to understand why I did it, I didn't tell you because I knew what kind of job you had and that you couldn't just drop everything. I mean you told me you couldn't stay.” “You don't think my kid would change that!?” I had tears building up.

“I didn't know you Dean, I didn't want a guy to tell me to screw off that I was just starting to really like and that I knew you just couldn't stay.” He’s silent again. “I want to know her.” I'm a little shocked. “Dean I know it was fucked up of me to keep this from you but you can't just go away because of a job or something that needs you for weeks I won't allow Bella to be hurt like that.” He did not hesitant “I won’t.” 

And from there on out it was kind of nice. We had set up a system where Bella could spend time with Dean so we didn't freak her out when we told her. I could really see both of them loving each other. I met his brother and he was very surprised to hear he had a niece. Bella loved spending time with both of them. It had been a couple of months. The more time we all spent together the more my heart became comfortable with Dean around, that’s what terrified me.

We were eating Chinese food with Bella and for the first time I felt like we had a family but then his damn phone rang. He checked the name and I saw his face fall a little from his previous smile but he was keeping it together for us. “Uh hey, what’s up?” I couldn't hear everything but I did hear the level of the voice and it was not calm.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” He responded back. He hangs up and looks at me. “Dean no no you promised-” “I know I did and trust me I don’t want to go but I have to. This friend needs me.” We need you, I need you but of course, I didn't say that out loud. He gets up to get his things and bends down to Bella’s level. “Hey Bells, I'll be back in a little.” She clearly doesn't want him to go. “But we were going to play barbies after dinner.” She whined in true six-year-old fashion.

“I know and promise as soon as I get back we will and I'll bring back a new Barbie friend how about that.” She leaps in his arms. “Yay! Thank you, Dean, I love you.” Dean and I both got stiff at that it was the first I love you between them. He squeezes her harder at that. “I love you too Bella.” He lets go and goes to the front door and I follow.

“How long are you going to be gone?” “I honestly don't know Y/n I wished I did.” At that, I got angry he fucking promised. “Dean, what kind of Job do you have that you don’t know when you'll be home!?” He put his hands on the sides of my face. “I will tell you everything when I get home.” He saw my uneasy face. He leans down I think for a kiss but not where I was expecting. It was my forehead, a slow caring one. “You have no idea what you guys mean to me. I will come back and explain everything.” With that, he leaves.

I put Bella to bed hours ago and it was five in the morning but I couldn't go to bed not knowing he was safe. Finally, the door creaks open but very quietly. It was Dean but he looked like he walked through Hell. “Hey, what are you still doing up?” I sip my coffee not really having the anger anymore but being replaced with worry. That’s when I knew I was in deep shit I was falling in love with Dean Winchester. “I couldn't sleep not knowing you were safe.” There is just silence between us. I look up and can't hold back anymore and run into his safe arms. We are like this for like two minutes. “I think it’s time I tell you what I really did, you might want to sit down for this.” 

“So you're saying everything I've ever told Bella was fake is real.” “Yes” “And God, Angels, the Devil, Demons, are real.” “Yup and actually an Angel is one of my best friends.” I gulp the rest of my coffee down, maybe thinking this was a dream and I would wake but no this was real. “Okay, I somehow believe you.” “Really some people call Sam and me crazy when we have to tell them.” “Well, I know both you and Sam and you're not liars.” “Thank you.” “No problem.” I break the ice once more. “So that’s why you had to leave to help someone.”

“Yeah, an old friend was going to a vamp nest.” He looked down at my confused face. “Sorry, I'll explain all the monster lore another time.” “A vamp nest sounds dangerous Dean.” “it is.” I let out what I was thinking the whole night. “Dean I don't want to tell you what to do but you can't just go out anymore like that not when you have a kid now and not when I- '' I was stopped by his lips on mine and it was like nothing changed. We let go.

“I'm sorry if I was reading that wrong Y/n but I care about you too and Bella and thank Chuck every day that he gave me you too.” “Chuck?” He chuckles. “More lore but this is way more important.” He gripped my hips and pulled me forward like he did six years ago. “Wait Dean before we go further even though I would love to relive how we made Bella I need to know this is a hundred percent real and this isn't another in-the-moment type thing.” He kisses me deeply again. “I'm a thousand percent for you and our family.” Our family I never thought I would hear those words and that did me in.

SMUT .................................................................................................................

I pull him in and kiss him again but this time put some real feeling in it. He slips his tongue in like it was natural. “Mhh Dean.” “Would you like to move this to the bed?” I jump up and he catches me. “Yes sir.” He walks me to my bedroom and kicks the door open and lays me down. He gets on top and starts to kiss down my neck. “Lets see, I think this is where your special spot is right?” He sucks down on my pressure point and I mewl with pleasure.

“Ding ding ding we have a winner.” He said slyly. “Dean, please no teasing, it's been six years.”  “Aww darling did I get you all worked up.” “Dean fucking Win-” He goes down to my thighs and starts to pull off my shorts and underwear. “You already soaked baby is this all for me?” He starts to rub his finger up and down my slit. I barely answer. “Uh-huh.” “That’s it baby just feel me.” he puts his finger in my pussy. “AHH DEAN!” I grip his wrist.

“Shh, you don't want to wake Bells.” “Oh, you motherfucker!” He goes faster and faster. “Are you almost there?” “Yes!” He speeds all the way up. “Okay let go.” And I came all over his fingers. “Ahh, I missed that.” “You son of a-” I laughed and dragged him into another kiss. It was starting to get heavy again and he was unbuckling quickly. “Are you sure about this?” he asked earnestly. “A thousand percent.” He smiled his goofy smile and went on. But something stopped the both of us. “Mommy moma!” I look down at his tent. “I'll go but we'll continue this later.'' I leave him with a lingering kiss and him thinking he is the luckiest guy in the world.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@rosekillermicrofic may 4 — hopeless — 1233words — cw: mildly pervy and sexual thoughts, nothing explicit though

no thoughts, just line cook! barty

A miracle.

The gods have heard Barty’s wishes and granted him this blessing.

Evan usually gets set up for dealing with the bar or counter but on rare occasions his lovely name gets jotted down in the column of servers/busboys. Today is one of those fateful occurrences which means Barty has at least 30% longer time windows of flirting his jolly ass off and burning food he’s not paying attention to curtsy of Evan’s slutty narrow hips in those damn aprons. Obscene things, those are.

Barty is currently staring at them as he blindly flips the burger patties one after the other, the stove sizzling animatedly. Barty is pretty sure he hasn’t blinked once since Evan has entered the kitchen again a minute ago to help sort dishes.

“So how’s your day been so far, Evan darling?”

“No,” comes back immediately. Not even a look thrown over his shoulder.

Barty’s grin widens. He puts more meat on the stove.

“Aw, c’mon. People been scant with tips already or what?”

Evan doesn’t reply, instead ripping off the notes from his pad and wordlessly striding over to Barty’s station, pinning them up.

Two of today’s specials, one cheesesteak and one portion of chicken for a caesar salad. And a little dick scribbled in the bottom corner.

“More people coming in than usual. Get a move on,” Evan says before briskly walking off again. Barty just so manages to get a whiff of spicy deodorant and whatever shea butter coconut extract beauty shit Evan uses for his curls before he’s gone again.

Barty sighs, looking after his pert little ass and long legs all the way until he’s around the corner. Then he readjusts his grip on the spatula and finally picks the patties off the grill, calling for Lily to collect them and assemble.

“They’re burnt,” she hisses, punching him in the arm with vigor. It hurts but Barty is too busy thinking about what type of underwear Evan might be wearing today. “Stop getting distracted by Rosier and do your damn job, chef.”

Barty hums, “What you think it’ll take to trick Evan into following me into the freezer room?”

Another hit. The same exact spot and Barty can’t help but hiss in pain this time.

Lily simply shakes her head, muttering Hopeless as she leaves.

Rush hour comes and goes.

Barty doesn’t let himself be bothered by the frenzy of it, bobbing his head to his playlist jamming over the old, staticy speakers while servers bustle around him like worker bees.

It’s meditative to him in a way and usually he sort of snaps out of it once it all calms down.

It’s when Evan asks him for leftover containers that Barty is brought back down to earth today.

The other boy is flushed in the face, slightly sweaty and hair messy with what can only be described as the final quarter of an eight hour shift look. It looks unfairly sexy on him.

The take out containers are in the cupboard over Barty’s head to his left side which he made sure to push all the way back during his break earlier.

“Yeah, they’re right here,” Barty says, nodding to the shelf.

“Grab two for me?”

Barty turns back to his meat again, teeth digging into his lower lip, grin straining his cheeks. “Nope.”

There’s nothing for a few seconds, only the background noise of the restaurant, the sizzling oil and Barty’s music.

When he turns again Evan is standing in the middle of the kitchen, rooted to the spot, blinking at Barty once. “‘No’?”

Barty hums, “Yeah, ’m pretty busy right now in case you can’t tell.” He shuffles a strip of bacon around as if to prove his point.

Evan’s eyes narrow, lips twisting into an obscene little pout, “You just have to lift your arm!”

“Sorry, no can do, Rosie baby.”

“You-” Evan huffs, “Hand me the fucking boxes, Crouch.”

“Can’t,” he replies airily, shrugging. “They’re pretty high up, too,” a hum, “I might not even be tall enough. I think you’ll have to walk your devilishly tall ass over here and grab them yourself.”

“Branleur,” Evan spits before reluctantly closing the distance between them.

His amber eyes glower dangerously at Barty and he has to suppress a deeply satisfactory hum, gut tightening and blood thrumming.

Evan yanks at the handle, opening it up to the ceiling before stretching up on his tiptoes to peer into it. He lets out a grumble, presumably at finding the containers to, in fact, be there but pushed all the way to the wall.

He’s only taller than Barty by a bit, an inch or two, maybe three, which means he’s struggling to reach the boxes too.

And it’s glorious and heavenly and so very tempting because Evan’s shirt is riding up in the back and, oh god, he has dimples there. Fuck, Evan has back dimples and they’re approximately half an armslength from Barty’s twitching fingers and it really requires visceral effort not to reach out and dig the pads of his thumbs into them. Push and maybe fold Evan right in half over the counter all together. Lick along his spine and bite into his hip bones, the smooth skin of his stomach, nibble at that one little mole right next to his navel that Barty was once fortunate enough to make acquaintance with and has since rubbed one out to more times than he could count.

When the other boy lifts back down he catches him staring, their eyes snapping to each other instantly.

“Don’t be a perv,” Evan comments, giving Barty a derogative once over and christ, no, don’t do that.

Barty laves his tongue along the corner of his own mouth, collecting spit that was threatening to drool, and uses a quick hand to adjust himself in his jeans.

Evan’s eyes follow his movement, arms crossing in front of his chest and a heavy breath punches out of Barty. He can’t help it, his mind is a powerpoint of all the different things he wants to do to Evan to make him lose this put-on condescending demeanor. Glimpses of the prettiest pair of eyes rolling back, eyebrows scrunching pitifully as Barty sinks into deliciously tight heat.

He desperately needs to get Evan alone with him. “Wanna smoke a blunt with me after closing?” he blurts.

And then Evan suddenly smiles. A downright cute little thing, all coy and syrupy sweet, poisonously candid. So viscous saccharine Barty feels it immobilize him like a glue trap and he groans in anticipation of the fatal blow Evan is about to deliver.

“Sorry, B,” he murmurs innocently, clicking his head, “no can do.”

It glides over Evan’s lips all strained and faux and with the most erotic little pitch Barty’s ears have ever heard.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his semi straining so heavily against the denim it would surely be visible without his own apron.

From one moment to the next Evan’s smile falls, having fulfilled its purpose, and he gives one last snootily look before he whirls on his heels and marches away, takeout containers in hand.

Just over to the other end of the kitchen where he bends down to grab some cutlery with which he will scrape the leftovers from the plate into the aluminum containers.

Doing so, Evan’s shirt rides up again, his ass jutting out and Barty vaguely registers the smell of burnt pork as he commits the muscle shift of Evan’s thighs and back into his memory for later.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 3

Part 1 2 3 4

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, jealousy, canon typical casual misogyny/violence, themes/mentions of menstruation/pregnancy/miscarriage, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: i made a bunch of shit up in this this chapter so just roll with it (: originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I blink harshly and pinch myself, willing my body awake. I force my eyes wide open, doing my best to make sense of the surroundings that were cloaked in black.

We were heading to my family's abandoned estate in the Brown Wood by the Sterling Rivers; finally, the people there would have a present preceding lord to govern them.

I had not been to the estate since my family was murdered when I was 10 and 3. There was a dread and an excitement that tingled in my body at the idea of return.

Right now, however, my head was starting to hurt from sleepiness.

It seemed we could cease for nothing. We, or rather, the horse and Sandor, have been walking for what felt like ages towards naught.

"Perhaps we should stop for the night," I turn to the Hound from atop my horse, whose face was barely visible in the darkness.

"And do what, little girl?" he groans, "you wanna sleep in the mud?"

I feel Lucy lean further into my shoulder from behind. She nuzzles into my neck and sighs; her arms, which were wrapped around me, loosened as she deeper fell into slumber. Daisy, too, was asleep. Much like Lucy, she nuzzled into Sandor's neck, who's been carrying her since King's Landing.

"Our options are currently limited," I tell him.

He scoffs, "a prissy lady like you thinks she can catch a wink of sleep with her head on a rock?" The Hound adjusts his hold on the reins of the horse, "if you find it hard to sleep on horseback, gods, do I have news for you."

I knit my brows at his words, "I don't find it hard to sleep. I'm choosing to stay up with y-"

"And which of us asked you to do that?" he scoffs and eyes me, "shut your mouth and sleep."

"You've been walking for leagues," I whine, "yours and the horse's backs must hurt from carrying-"

"Then shall I throw you away?" he snaps and stops in his tracks. The horse neighs at the sudden halt. I tighten Lucy's arms around me as I look down at him.

He was truly so large; even now as I was perched upon a steed, he barely had to crane his neck up to look at me.

"It'll be fucking easier for me to get by without 3 bitches weighing me down."

I turn away and huff.

Regardless of this, unlike most times, I feel no threat with his words. If he really wanted to get rid of us, he wouldn't have taken us in the first place. This much I knew. Still, I keep my silence on the matter and mutter instead, "I hope we find lodging soon."

Sandor scoffs and continues walking. He adjusts his grip on Daisy as he looks forward, "your hope is just as helpful as your dollies, little girl."

It's nothing short of a miracle that wandered to a town and found an inn. The moment I thanked the gods tough, they laughed at my face.

We flock outside the inn and Sandor immediately calls the worker girl carrying a bucket of potatoes, telling her to prepare us a room. She turns to him, swallowing the immediate terror she felt over his appearance, and choked out there were no rooms left for many claimed rooms tonight. She says we should try the inn another town away.

You could guess how much The Hound liked that.

The girl and I both gasped when the massive man blocked her passage and imposed upon her, "I suggest you fucking make room for us."

"Sandor!" I cry out, feeling Lucy wake behind me.

The girl drops her bucket; it breaks with a crash and out spills the potatoes. She scrams to pick it all up.

Daisy whines in shock of the noise, wakes, and lifts her head. I pull Lucy's arms off me when Sandor kicks the girl's bucket away. She squeals and falls on her bum just as I jump down from the horse gracelessly.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I stand in his way before he can do anything further to the girl. This causes us to collide and I shuffle back in contact. My feet hit the girl's legs and I lose my balance.

I yelp the same time the Hound grabs me by the arm and snarls, "you stupid fucking girl!"

He rips me into his chest. His iron grip on my arm stings so bad I feel my eyes water. I hiss, "let go of me!"

Daisy begins to stir in his arms. She barks and he wrangles out of his grip. The Hound releases the both of us; the dog jumps out of his arms and comes to my side.

At this point, Lucy is wide awake and jumps off the horse. She fixes her satchel around her and comes to my side. She asks me if I'm hurt and rubs my arm as I did. I tell her to help the girl up as I glare at Sandor.

Daisy is losing her mind barking. It makes the Hound more furious than he was already. He tries to kick her, but Daisy was thankfully quick and managed to run off before he could hit her. She continues barking behind me.

I walk towards him when he makes an attempt to hurt Daisy again. I block his path and grabbing his thick arms, "STOP IT!"

The Hound's eye twitches. He reaches out and yanks my head back by the hair, "you really think you can stop me?"

I whine. I grab the hand on my hair, "she's just a child! It's not her fault there are no more rooms!"

The Hound growls. He releases me roughly.

I shuffle back.

Lucy glares at him as she collects the potatoes and gives it to the weeping girl; she gathers them in her skirts.

"I'm doing this for you, hen-peck," The Hound quips, "and you'd prefer to make me suffer all the way to the next rat infested village!"

"That's not what I'm asking you to do!" I rebut, blood pumping hot with anger, "I'm asking you to leave the girl alone because she's done nothing but be honest to us!"

A chill runs down my spine when I hear him laugh; it's the first time I've ever heard him make such a sound.

"You know what happens to you lot of honest people?" he steps forward and leans down to meet me eye level. I step back but hold his gaze. He he snorts then spits by his side before straightening up, "we lot kill you."

I am equal parts frustrated and scared when he turns around and walks off. Gods know what he will do now.

I call out to him, "I'll find us lodging! I swear it!"

"You go do that, little girl," he growls back as he disappears into the thicket.

I release a breath as I turn around and walk up to Lucy and the girl. Daisy finally stops barking.

"Forgive me, sweet girl," I mutter as I help the weeping thing up. I give Lucy a look and she immediately nods and goes through her satchel. I frown at the girl and brush away the hair sticking to her dampened face, "my husband has rough hands and a sharp tongue."

Her face falls upon hearing this.

Lucy pulls out a coin and shows it to her before slipping it between her belt.

"For your trouble, my dear," I pull away from her, "I hope no one will bother you again tonight."

With that, the girl curtsies and walks off.

"Would you like some wine, my lady?"

I turn to the man, sat diagonal to me. He gives me a beaming smile from ear to ear, hazel eyes twinkling with the morning sunshine. His his rosy cheeks are framed by his mousy blonde hair. He motions to his servant, but then changes his mind a second later. He stands from his seat on the table and grabs the ewer, ready to pour me a glass.

I cover the chalice before me and smile, "water is enough for me, my lord. Thank you."

"Oh," he raises the object, "please. This is special wine from my uncle's vineyard. I tell you there is none like it."

Lucy, sat to my right, lifts her eyes as she chews the duck we had been served.

I shake my head, "I do not doubt it. I do not think it appropriate for me to drink wine, however."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head and smiles, "a cup of wine in the morning will get your blood pumping."

"No, Lord, I do not make issue of drinking during this time of day," I purse my lips, "I mean I am..." I trail off trying to think of the simplest way to explain it, "expecting."

The man tilts his head in confusion.

"Of course, I am uncertain, but..." I turn to my lap then turn back to him.

Lucy chews slowly as she straightens up beside me.

"... I could be with child."

The man freezes upon hearing that. His lips part and his arm slowly lowers.

I offer him a soft smile. He makes a cautious sound, "my apologies, Lady Clegane."

"No. All is well, I assure you, Lo-"

"No," he clears his throat, "it was quite impertinent of me to press upon such a thing with a lady," he nods, "you have taught me a valuable lesson."

I let out a polite chuckle, "glad to be of service, Lord Alistair."

"Please, the Lord of house Alistair is my father," he smiles, "I bid you call me Cedric."

Lucy pretends to clear her throat and then grabs her cup. Our host sees this then stands up to offer, "perhaps you would like to try the wine instead?"

Lucy blinks and looks between him and I. I give her a look then she says, "don't mind if I do, milord."

I chuckle under my breath.

He pours her a cup and she immediately drinks it.

She lets out a breath, "wow. Cedric's right about the wine!"

Both of us perk in shock of Lucy's words.

"Lucy!" I quip.

"What, milady?" she makes an innocent face, "it really is god wine!'

"You cannot call our Lord by his name!"

"But he said not to call him Lord Alistair!"

My jaw drops, "Lucy!"

Cedric laughs, "no. She is right. I did say that." He looks between us, "I pray both of you call me by my name."

I turn to Cedric but do not get to respond as Lucy does it for me, "I am your obedient servant."

Cedric laughs and we make small talk as we continue to finish our morning meal.

Cedric Alistair was a most courteous host. Last night, as our options went dry, I asked the townsfolk where their lord resided, and we walked all the way to the Alistair stronghold in hopes of amity. We were met with much more than that

Not only did he feed me, Lucy, Daisy, and the horse, but he had his servants draw us baths and give us a change of clothes. He refused any of the coin I had to give him, and said it was only right to host a lady this way. He even said he would also have his men look for my missing husband.

Sandor wandered off after our squabble, thus we looked for a place to stay ourselves. I knew partially, he probably needed this time to cool his temper, but I obviously didn't want to be separated from him. And yet, the idea of having Lord Alistair's men look for the Hound made me anxious, as I knew the chances of a fight breaking out between them was high. In the end, told him he did not need to deploy his men because my husband would find his way to us eventually.

Cedric chuckled in surprise when I told him this, remarking I must have quite the capable husband.

Neither of us expected him to walk into the room in the middle of our conversation.

I stand from my seat when I spot him, "Sandor!"

Lord Cedric stands with me.

The Hound is expressionless, save for the way his brows were furrowed. His skin and armor is still covered in blood from the battle of the Blackwater; it's now dried up and brown. His hair and beard is matted.

Daisy, who had been graciously kept indoors and was being fed at the end of the room, runs as fast as her three legs can take her, towards the Hound.

Lucy finds herself standing because of this. She runs up to Daisy, who was now near Sandor. She scolds the dog who is excited to see him. Sandor ignores them both and heads towards me. I meet him halfway, looking his body once over.

Sandor halts when I place my hands on his arms. In truth, the action was instinctive. Seeing him like this in daylight was making my stomach churn. I look up at him, "this is not your blood, right?"

His eyes look heavy as he looks down at me. He huffs, "no."

I nod in relief, "here," I pull away and motion to my seat, "you can have my food-"

"Nonsense," Cedric interjects, turning from us to the entrance of the dining room, "could someone prepare a plate for Lord-"

Sandor reaches past me and grabs the duck on my plate, stuffing it into his mouth.

Cedric turns to him as he does this.

I ask, "could I request a damp cloth?"

Lucy finally calms Daisy down and convinces her to go back to her bowl and finish eating.

Cedric eyes me, then Sandor, then the entrance, "and a damp cloth!"

I watch as Sandor devours the meat, "where did you sleep last night?"

He huffs as he chews. "On a rock in the fucking forest," the Hound grumbles before swallows the duck in his mouth.

I frown at him, "we tried looking for you for a while after you stormed off, but I did not want to lead us any deeper into the forest beyond what torchlight touched."

Sandor gives me a nod, "smart girl."

The compliment fades in an instant when he pushes me aside and sits on my spot, finishing whatever was left on my plate. Cedric and I watch him eat. At the same time, two servants come in with a plate and cutlery, and a small basin bowl and a cloth.

"Good morn, milord," Lucy curtsies at Sandor, who spares her a glance but nothing more.

I circle around to grab a chair from across Sandor and bring it to his side. Cedric holds back whatever he is meant to say as he watches me thank his servant for the bowl and cloth, and prop it on the chair I took.

"Stop!" I hiss at Sandor,  just as he reaches to a leg of chicken with his bare hand.

The Hound pulls back and turns to me with slightly wide eyes. In contrast, Lucy's eyes are as big as the moon.

I wring out the towel before taking Sandor's left hand, wiping it. I mumble, "I know you're starving, but you should eat with clean hands, my Lord."

Cedric finally sits down on his chair. Lucy turns to her own hands and wonders if she should wash after touching Daisy.

Sandor gives me his other hand to clean, silently watching me do this.

"Would you like milk of the poppy for your wounds, Lord Clegane?" Cedric asks, unable to tear his eyes from the man's face, "for your burn?"

I turn to him when he says this while. I motion to Sandor, wordlessly allowing him to continue eating now. I wash the towel in the basin, "he's not inju-"

"I would like some milk," Sandor says as he tears himself some chicken.

I furrow my brows at this, turning to him, "but you said-"

Cedric is about to call the order but then my husband's voice cuts him off. The Hound blurts just as I begin to wipe his face, "but only if it's from my wife's teat."

Lucy begins to choke on the wine she was drinking.

My freeze in my spot. I feel my face burn like a thousand suns.

There is a thick tension in the air, only thinned by the sound of Lucy's coughing.

I don't know what to say and so I decide not to say anything. I simply wipe the man's face with bit more force than necessary. He didn't even seem to notice.

The Hound eyes Lord Alistair the whole time he eats. It makes both the Lord, himself, and I severely uncomfortable.

"Sandor," I scold warily.

He does not turn to me as he picks up a cup, "wife."

I watch him chug down water then turn to me. The Hound asks, "you want some duck?"

I do my best not to roll my eyes.

The horses grazed as we took a break near a river. I watch Sandor kneel down by the water and wash his face. I scoff at him, sitting down on a rock.

We were on our way to my family's estate again. Cedric had been kind enough to offer us each a horse. The Hound, however, was too proud to accept a horse for himself, arguing he would not be able to carry the stupid bitch if he got on horseback.

He also rejected a bath, as 'we ought to not waste daylight.'

I look around the surroundings, finding solace in the fact that at least the weather was clear and kind. I watch Daisy run around and dig a hole with her paws; her broken leg did not really help, and yet that did not stop her from using it. I smile at the animal.

I watch Lucy lean into her horse and stroke it's mane. I can barely make out what she was whispering to the steed Cedric gave her. Still, the sight intensified my smile.

I so badly want to give them a good life.

I turn to the tree by my side. I remember how we used to have a tree in Brown Wood, how my father made my brothers and I a swing himself. I want that. I want to do the same for my children. I wonder if that tree was still there. I gasp when I spot a squirrel on the branch.

The Hound is immediately alerted by this and grabs his hilt, "what is it?"

"A squirrel," I point and stand. I walk over to the tree, "look, it's so little!"

Sandor makes a noise and makes a face, "Little?" he releases his grip, "what like you? Shall I get it for you as a pet?"

I turn to him, shocked by his offer. He would get a pet for me?

He walks towards me, "I won't be the one to kill it. Your dog will."

My expression morphs into a scowl.

He clicks his tongue twice then whistles. Daisy barks in response and follows after him. I am somehow angered by her obedience to him. I scoff under my breath, "I suppose dogs recognize each other."

The moment I see Daisy's excitement towards him, I regret speaking such harsh words. I'm glad Sandor did not hear it.

Lucy watches me as I walk up to my horse. Sandor takes me by the waist and lifts me with no fuss. I easily mount the horse and look down at him. I finally find it in me to bring it up after a painfully quiet travel, "you did not have to be so icy to Lord Alistair. He was a temperate host."

Sandor chuckles dryly and grabs the reins of my horse. He begins to walk. Daisy walks beside him as he says, "I'm sure he'd love to warm your bed. And I'm sure you'd want him to."

My face falls at his accusation.

"I'm sure you'd let him."

"Do not speak so low and surely of me, Hound!" I hiss, "these words you sputter weigh heavily on the both of us."

He chuckles again, "is that supposed to be a threat?" He turns to me, "you think I give a shit about words?"

"Well, I do!" I snap, eyes watering in anger and frustration, "and your words hurt me!" I turn away from him, "I have done nothing but try to please you, and you do nothing but try to hurt me!"

"Please me," he grumbles and looks away, "you've done nothing but nag and slow me down!"

I ignore him as I ruefully wipe away my tears, cursing myself for crying over him again.

The Hound is about to bark another string of complaints but stops himself as he whips back at me. He looks for a second, adjusting his hold onto he reins, then turns away, "you should have married the likes of fucking Lord Alistair, little squirrel."

I scoff and shake my head at his new nickname, "well, I didn't choose you, didn't I, Hound?"

Lucy's looks at me, lips parting at sound of the remark.

Sandor turns to Daisy, watching her keep up with him with her three paws, "no, you did not."

We were finally... home.

It was the dead of night when we arrived, and my family estate was as abandoned as ever. The place was called Brown Wood, as it was near a forest which was home to many brown bears. The forest extended to the Sterling Rivers, which got its name for it's clear waters where you could fish for gold. It used to be a haven for both men and beasts alike, now, it was a ruin of darkness.

The people that remained there stayed as far from the forest as they could, fearing what lurked in the shadows.

Sandor had to open the gates himself, as there would be no one to do it for us. The moment we were inside, a chill ran down my spine.

"This was your home, milady?" Lucy asks, looking around the place as our horses tread inside.

I sniffle and offer a smile, mostly to mask the fear building in my stomach, "it wasn't always like this."

"How old were you when you left again?" she asks as she readies to dismount her horse.

Sandor shoos Daisy away before reaching out to help me down. I reply before I do, "10 & 3."

I huff as Sandor sets me down. I look up at him. He looks down on me, pulling his hands that lingered too long away from my waist. Daisy begins to run around and bark. The Hound walks off and shushes her.

Lucy takes my arm and we go inside together.

I thought if we lit candles and the fireplace, I'd feel less scared, but I think I was terrified now. I thought that if I ignored that feeling as I showed everyone around my old home, I'd feel better, but I didn't.

Lucy had decided to take the room near the kitchen, so she wouldn't have to walk so far in the mornings to cook for us. I wasn't exactly sure where Daisy was. It was now only Sandor and I walking down the halls. I was leading us to the master bedroom with a single candle in my hand.

I open the door and step in, "here it is."

I turn to Sandor, stood by the door. I place the candle down my the bedside table. He surveys the room, taking in the cob webs and the dusty furniture, "it's big room."

I lick my lips, "it was bigger in my head, but... it must have just been because I was a child when I was last here."

Sandor looks at me and nods, "I will sleep in the room beside you."

"Wha- wait!" I step forward.

Sandor's boots skid on the floor as he stops himself.

"Y-you're-- y-you're not going to sleep with me?"

Sandor grips the knob, "have I ever slept with you before?"

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

A moment of silence passes.

"You could start sleeping with me now," I offer weakly as I motion around, "there's more than enough space for the two of us."

Sandor shifts before speaking, "I'm going to take a bath before going to bed." And with that, he closes the door behind him.

I gasp when he does. I feeling a heavy dread sliver up my spine.

I roll my shoulders back and roughly brush my arms. I light the other candles in the room and busy myself with changing the sheets. There was a bittersweetness in doing so. This used to be my parents room. I knew where they kept their things and all their things were still in place. One would wonder why every item was still intact and untouched, but then one clearly does not know the horrid tales that befell Brown Wood.

I rip the sheets off the bed, coughing as dust flew around. I do my best attempt at changing the sheets and chuck the musty ones by the edge of the bed.

Once I gave up in fitting the sheets the way Lucy did, I huffed and undid my dress, remaining in nothing but my shift. I then hid under the covers.

My exhaustion should have made it easier to sleep, but the setting was triggering my memories. It wasn't long until I was recounting the one I hated the most. Fear was clawing at me, and soon enough, my mind was playing tricks.

The next thing I knew I was frozen in bed, too petrified to move, but wanting nothing more than to get up and flee, to where, I did not know. I begin to feel tears stream from my eyes, but I'm too scared to make a noise, too scared that it will bring forth the darkness lurking in the shadows.

Somehow, I eventually manage to convince myself to call a name, I do this against a pillow though. Slowly, I call the name louder and louder until I was screaming into the bed, "SANDOR!"

I burst into a shriek when I feel something touch my shoulders.

"IT'S ME! It's me!" he groans, ripping my blanket down, turning me to face him. I sit up and grab hold of his arms. I look at his face, I look at Sandor's alarmed expression. He was in nothing but his breeches but that didn't stop me from grabbing his bare shoulders as I sobbed.

"What's wrong, squirrel?" he pushes my hair away from my face, "why are you calling out to me like this?"

I feel him wipe my cheeks. I miss the gentleness of his touch because I'm too wrapped up in my terror.

I shake my head, "I can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Sleep on my own," I choke out, grabbing his wrists, "please."

Sandor remains still as I move closer to him.

"I swear to you I will stay on my side," I shake my head rapidly, "I will not move. I will not make a sound. I will make myself as small as possible, but I beg that you sleep with me, that you stay with me."

Sandor considers my desperation in silence.

I whine when he pulls away. I repel his actions and throw myself onto him, "please-"

"I'm just going to get my shirt."

"There are shirts here!" I say as I grab his arm and stand from bed. I drag him towards the closet and hand him my one of my father's old shirt. I get on my tiptoes and begin to put it on him. He grunts as I do this, but lets me do it anyway.

"I got it," he quips when I try helping him put the sleeve on.

I watch him put on the shirt. It looked a bit tight on him but I couldn't care less, he would have to make due. I grab his bicep, "so, you'll stay with me?"

Sandor eyes me, pushing his hair back, "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

I release a breath, "I swear," I shake my head again, "I will not make a fuss! I am a light sleeper! If I do something, simply wake me so that I do not both-"

"I get it," Sandor says, pulling his arm away. I follow him closely as he steps into bed. I quickly follow after him, taking the smallest portion of the bed possible.

"I'm not that fucking massive, girl," he grumbles once he's on his side.

I turn to him, "I don't want to-"

"I'm bothered with you sleeping so on edge that you're going to roll off any second."

I scoot a tad closer to him.

Sandor makes himself comfortable. I slowly let myself do the same.

I anticipate an interrogation from him. I'm sure he wanted to ask why I was crying, why I wanted him here, why I'm so scared, but they never come. He just lays there with me in the quiet. I instead find myself focusing on the sound of his breathing as a distraction to my racing mind. I eventually tire myself out and slowly doze off.

I wake up with a groan. I bite my lip and reach out to the other side of the bed. Empty again.

I sigh and roll under the covers. I freeze when I feel a dampness between my thighs.

I push myself up and pull the sheets down as I sit up. A pool of red was seeping through my shift. A panic shoots through me. I clutch my belly, mortified as I rip up my skirt and see how much blood I've lost. Was this...

I lie back down and try to count the days that I last bled and the day Sandor and I laid together.

I release a breath. The counting is both calming and frustrating.

I sit back up and call, "Lucy!"

I stand from the bed and pull the sheets off, "Margaret!"

I walk to the closet and fish for a change of clothes, "Annetta!"

A voice from afar calls out, "coming, milady!"

Lucy was the one that responded. She gasps when she walks in, eyes immediately on the red of my otherwise white attire, "you're-"

"Not with child," I finish for her, looking over my shoulder, "is a bath prepared for me?"

Lucy takes a moment before nodding, "yes. It's why it took me a while to get here," she walks over to the sheets, "the girls didn't prepare the bath the way you like it."

"I do not mind not having lavender," I pull out a dress from the closet.

"Well, I mind," Lucy turns to me, "you have been aching for a two days now."

I hum, "and now we know why," I motion to the bed she was fixing.

Lucy takes my arm before I can walk off to the bathroom. She speaks my name; she says it in a soft and wary manner. I purse my lips and turn to her. I raise my brows expectantly.

She clenches her jaw, "do you think it is monthly blood or..." Lucy's face hardens.

"My love," I shake my head and offer a smile, "it is simply my that."

My handmaiden is unconvinced, "it's been three moons since you've bled."

"And has that not happened to me before when I was a maiden?" I tilt my head and brush her hair behind her shoulders.

The both of us turn to the door when someone knocks. I tell whoever it is to enter and in comes Annetta. The young farmer's girl was one of the now many servants in Brown Wood. Her eyes widen when she sees the red on my clothes. She scrambles to get something to cover me. I chuckle and assure her it is alright because I will be bathing anyway.

This haunted place lost its ghosts once we took in people to employ. The estate now resembled something like that of my childhood; plenty of rooms were now being used, people were bustling in and out, only except now, all the responsibility was glaringly obvious to me for it was my responsibility... and Sandor's.

It was tedious work, managing a house, managing an estate, managing the whole expanse of what was within the Brown Wood and the Sterling River. The Hound was keen on being obvious to how tedious it was.

I am partially grateful that he was doing his duties-- no, I am grateful that he was. But-

"My Lord," I rise from my seat on the dining table when I see Sandor march down the halls towards me. I smile softy and nod, "good morrow."

"Nothing's good about morrows," he grumbles. Sandor draws the chair at the head of the table back with a screech. He looks down at the table. He turns to me and asks, "where's the grub?"

I decide not to respond and only look over to where the kitchen was, calling for the servants. I sit down and smile when I turn to him, "I was hoping you would join me today."

Three servants walk in carrying our plates of food and an ewer. The Hound watches them place it down and leave.

I stand up again when he takes his plate, "please."

"You know I've got no time for this," he hisses in annoyance, "I have a bunch of sorry fucks' complaints to listen to-"

"I can do that!" I place my hand on my chest, "I can fill in those duties for you."

Sandor freezes.

I turn to the table, "I wanted to speak to you about these things as we ate."

My belly swirls at his silence.

I turn back to him and catch the way he rolls his jaw and wrists. I manage to repress the way I jolt at how he roughly sits himself down. I take a deep breath before sitting down.

The Hound immediately feasts. He makes soft sounds as he chews. The cutlery clanks against the china.

I begin to eat as well, "did you wake before sunrise again?"

He responds by stuffing more food in his mouth.

I look at him as I chew. I look at his burn scar, where his hair started and ended on that side of his face. I notice at how, though he is quick to eat, he is mindful not to get anything on his beard. I notice how he not once looks back at me.

"You needn't wake so early," I offer softly, "you can have someone else-"

"None of the sorry fucks in this town know how to use a sword, not properly. Once I train a few of them, they can train themselves," he takes the ewer and pours himself a cup of wine. He mutters as he brings the cup to his lips, "they keep complaining about the woodland monsters stealing their sheep, but I reckon it's them thieving on each other."

I put my silverware down, "you might not believe it, but the woodland monsters are real."

The Hound sets his cup before him and continues to eat.

I feel a frustrated ire build in me, "I've told you, those creatures are what killed my family. You saw my scar. You know why I cannot sleep without you."

"I didn't say I didn't believe your story," he finally turns to me, "I said they're stealing each other's sheep."

I turn back to my plate and cut up my food, "will you investigate the theft then?"

"What for?" he continues to eat, "I scared those pricks shitless. If anyone is stealing, now they won't."

My face twitches at the thought.

Sandor notices.

He chews for a moment before asking, "what?"

I tense as I turn to him.

He looks expectantly.

I purse my lips tightly before curving it into a smile, "you have been working tirelessly and have... very surely established lordship to Brown Wood, a role that is immensely different to the one you used to have. I know that this is not the life you want or ever thought of having, but I am grateful for your a-"

"You don't have to shield my heart and kiss my ass, squirrel," he leans back on his chair and waves impatiently, "get to the point."

I lick my lips and huff, "your time in service has hardened you, as it would any other man. It has helped you become the valiant warrior you are, but--" I cut myself off to gently mutter, "I feel your way is a bit too coarse."

The Hound says nothing.

I straighten up, "that is why I would like to take upon your load of relating with the people," I reach for the ewer and pour myself some wine, "in this way, you will not have to rise so early to fit all your errands in a day."

He places his hand atop my cup when I try to pick it up.

I pull my head back as he straightens up, "you know I used to wake at the ass crack of dawn for the stupid boy-king, doncha?"

My stomach drops when he leans in.

"So, what?" he narrows his eyes, "you'd do all the talking by yourself?"

I gulp, "ideally-"

"Ideally," he chuckles and pulls away.

"-so that you may use that time for your other responsibilities, your patrols. That is something you're much more accustomed to."

My skin pricks as when laughs harder. It felt like his amusement was laced with poison.

He shakes his head and sighs deeply. He looks at me for a good long moment then tilts his head, "you think I can't do it."

I furrow my brows.

"You think I'm an imbecile who can't solve petty arguments between illiterate boneheads," he begins to flare, "and you don't want the pretty memory of your dead fucking family to be tainted by my monstrosity."

I am appalled by his words, "that's not what I said!"

"You didn't need to," he nods, "shackled to a Hound, you ought to use him like one, right? Never mind giving him a chance."

I feel like a stake pierced through my ribs. His low chuckle squeezes my heart. I rebut, "that is not what I meant."

"And what did you mean?!"

"I want to help you!" I fight back the way my eyes wanted to water, "I want to share your burden! I grew up watching my uncle speak to his people in his house, while you grew up learning the ways of the blade. What I offer is a more logical setup."

"Just like it was logical of you to keep a three legged dog," he quips back.

I scoff in disbelief.

"I suppose you want me to hunt the creatures that butchered your family next, huh?" he scratches his beard.

My face drops at the thought. I rapidly shake my head I disagreement.

He clenches his fist and grits his teeth, "why not? Maybe then you can have your kid with that pretty boy-lord across the meadow."

His words make belly contract. I clutch my belly, painfully aware that I was bleeding between my thighs this moment.

"I'm not with child," I blurt out, unable to contain my tears any longer.

Sandor is freezes, at the sight of the tears and the statement.

"I woke up bleeding," I say between cries, "I've never been regular bleeder. It's not unusual for me to skip through multiple moons."

The next words he says butchers me.

"Maybe it's the gods' will for you not to be a mother."

I stare at him in horror after hearing this. His blank expression is chilling to the bone.

He suddenly stands, "there's always something awry when we speak, and you always end up weeping."

Is this why he thinks I shouldn't be a mother?

"In any case, we ought to not speak to each other at all."

My jaw drops. I nearly choke on my heart, "now you don't even want to speak to me."

"Look at yourself," he raises a hand, "you don't want to speak to me."

"Because you are treating me so cruelly!" I spring up from my seat.

The Hound shakes his head, "I'm treating you just fine. I'm doing you a favor."

Sandor tenses as he watches me shove my chair back and walk away.

[chiriwritesstuffnotifs]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 1 - Ukiyo

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Tired of being pigeonholed into your good girl persona, you take a chance on a night out with Dieter Bravo, America's favorite Bad Boy. A drunken night leads to the two of you in Las Vegas...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Somnophilia, Slightly Dub-Con (but she's into it), cunnilingus, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 3.1 K

A/N: After the insistence of some of my readers wanting me to write a Dieter story, I finally bit the bullet! I will be honest - it's tough for me to watch 'The Bubble' in its entirety. Hence, I heavily relied on TikTok and its fabulous edits of Dieter to develop his characterization. This was really fun for me to write, and I hope you all enjoy the ride our favorite trash panda is about to take us on! Gird your loins and your panties, babies!

Ukiyo - living in the moment, detached from the things in life that bother us.

You feel like you're trapped in a surreal, fucked-up dream.

Memories from the night before flooding your mind as you gradually pull yourself back into consciousness. 

"It's nothing personal, Dollface, it's just business," the sleazy hot-shot producer whispers in your ear. His hands graze your lower back, and you force a smile amidst the swarm of paparazzi. "I'm not a miracle worker, baby. They want an Angelina, not a Jennifer. Casting America's sweetheart in an R-rated movie? It's a tough sell."

"I'm not exactly jailbait," you retort, turning toward the paparazzo bellowing your name, a practiced smile on your face. "I believe I'm ready to explore different roles-"

"Well, that 'no-nudity' clause is really messing you up, baby. Times are changing, and they want bold, daring, sexy actresses," he remarks, his tone oozing condescension. 

The producer's creepy breath tickles your ear, and his hands venture lower down your back. "I can help you with that," he whispers, and the suggestion feels like a toxic cloud hanging in the air, making your skin crawl.

You toss and turn in bed, gripping the silky sheets beneath you. The memory of his touch haunts your thoughts, leaving you uncomfortable and anxious. 

"Dieter Bravo," your publicist cautions with a smile, guiding you down the carpet, "is someone you want to avoid tonight, Doll. Save yourself the hassle, seriously."

You furrow your brow, glancing down the red carpet to where Dieter stands. His unruly curls frame his face as he grins widely for the photographers. It's as if he senses your gaze; suddenly, his eyes lock onto yours, eyebrows raised in surprise. A smirk plays on his lips, and he blows a kiss in your direction.

"He's nothing but trouble, I'm surprised they let him on the carpet after what happened last year," your publicist states matter-of-factly.

"Care to remind me?" you breathe, smiling at the cameras. "He seems like a riot."

Your publicist shoots you a look. "Well, I don't consider getting arrested for public intoxication, disorderly conduct, and lewd behavior as something amusing-"

"I don't know, seems like he would be a fun time," you muse, playfully pushing your breasts in Dieter's direction. "Maybe that's what my career needs – someone like Dieter Bravo corrupting America's Sweetheart." Dieter leers at the gesture, waggling his tongue and adjusting himself as he walks backward into the venue, a mischievous grin on his face. "... besides, he hasn't been shy about wanting to 'put his face in between my tits', maybe I should just let him have at it."

"Are you seriously considering tanking your career before it's even taken off?" your publicist groans, steering you into the venue and handing you a flute of champagne. "People like him are like a virus; he'll infect everything about you." He lets out a sigh. "I understand you want to break out of the girl-next-door mold, but getting involved with Dieter Bravo is not the answer."

You take a sip of your champagne as you continue to eye fuck Dieter from across the room. "I don't know, maybe it is."

You're suddenly gasping in pleasure as you're finally jolted awake, the feeling of someone's hot breath against your skin as you arch your back at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck-" you sigh, looking down at the mass of unruly curly hair in between your legs. Dieter licks and parts your folds as you lock eyes with his, a shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you hear an insistent ringing in your head.

"Dieter?" you moan, realizing that what you're hearing is your ringtone from across the hotel room that you don't remember being in. "What-"

"Shh, baby. Let your husband eat you for breakfast," he mumbles against your pussy, his teeth scraping at your clit. He grabs onto your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he sticks his other finger into you, eating you out so thoroughly like a starved man. Your cellphone rings again and you're too overwhelmed to care, your head pounding from whatever you drank the night before.  

"Husband?" you ask confusedly as you feel yourself about to come. 

"That's right, Doll, fuck I feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers, are you gonna come for your husband?" he pleads, and you realize that you're both stark naked and that you somehow ended up from LA to Las Vegas, getting eaten out by America's Bad Boy in a suite at the Cosmopolitan.  How in the fuck did we end up here? you ask yourself in a panic.  Why the fuck is Dieter Bravo calling himself my husband?!

You're on your fifth glass of whatever champagne the venue is serving when you suddenly feel someone's hot breath against your ear. "I can't help but notice that you've been eye fucking me the entire night," Dieter groans, taking a seat next to you. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that Wired interview worked out in my favor-"

"You know, there are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gazes at your cleavage, "intentions very clearly known."

"Well, I don't know if it's clearly known," you whisper. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

He smiles, leaning back in the seat as he spreads his legs, caging you in. "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your phone ringing a third time snaps you out of your reverie as you simultaneously chase your impending orgasm that your husband? is working so damn hard trying to get you there. "Fuck Dieter, I need-"

"What do you need, baby?" he pants, the sound of your slick as he licks at your folds aggressively, the loud squelching echoing throughout the room. "My wife has such a pretty little pussy, my fucking GOD," he praises, "Fuck, if this is heaven, I'm begging to see what hell has in store for me-"

It's obscene.

"Do you need my cock? Didn't get enough of it yesterday, huh?"

"My phone-"

"Fuck your phone," he dismisses as he starts to pump another finger into you, "Do you want your hubby's cock or not, baby?"

"Ye-"

Your legs are suddenly pulled to the edge of the bed, Dieter entering you in one fluid stroke. "Good enough answer for me." He pulls himself back, grabbing one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist as he thrusts aggressively back into you, his balls slapping your asscheeks as he begins to pound into you with a brutal pace. "Fuck, only took me being inside of you the whole night for you to take me in so fucking well-"

You chuckle as he accelerates out of the venue's parking garage in his PA's Mustang convertible, cackling like a madman as he maneuvers through the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In and Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In and Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure.  

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In and Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

Dieter is railing you into oblivion when there's suddenly a heavy knock on the door. Your phone is ringing off the hook, and you can't help but desperately whine as Dieter wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you into a kiss.  "Fuck, can't I fuck my wife in peace?!" he growls at the door, his pace quickening as he urges you to come on his cock. "I ain't answering the fucking door until you milk me dry, baby girl, you gonna come for me?"

"Fuck Dieter, don't fucking stop, please-" 

The knocking on the door echoes throughout the room as Dieter suddenly arches his back, squeezing your thighs harshly as he explodes deep into your pussy, his fingers finding your clit as he desperately rubs circles, begging you to come. He slaps it for good measure, the sharp sudden pain making you arch off the bed as you grab ahold of him, screaming into his neck as you're suddenly blinded by a feeling of absolute fucking bliss that no one has ever been able to pull from your wrecked, shaking body.

"That's the fucking spirit, Doll, give me every-"

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" you suddenly hear. "I KNOW YOU'RE FUCKING IN THERE!" 

Dieter pulls himself out in a huff, not bothering to cover himself as he storms over to the hotel room door, opening it harshly for good measure. "What do you FUCKING WANT-" he growls to the intruder, only to be met with the widening eyes of your publicist, his PA, and the Hotel Manager. Your publisher harshly pushes himself through the threshold, pushing Dieter to the wall as he makes his way to the bedroom, and you hurriedly cover yourself as he bursts through the door.

A phone is thrust into your face, the image of you and Dieter in front of the Graceland Wedding Chapel in the background as you hold your hand up for the camera, Dieter kissing your cheek as the diamond ring on your finger winks back at you. You lift your hand to your face, your eyes widening at the ring on your finger as your publicist glares at you, his chest heaving.  

"Do you want to tell me what the fuck happened last night?"

"So how do we fix this?" your publicist groans, the wrinkle between his brows more pronounced. "Maybe we can get this sham of a marriage annulled-"

"I have an idea," Dieter's PA chirps in, "What if we lean into this?"

"Absolutely not!" you find yourself shouting, your hands reaching for the bottle of painkillers on your coffee table. "I'm America's fucking sweetheart, the gossip rags are already having a field day about me getting my tits groped by America's bad boy at a fucking In and Out-"

"If I can recall, Dollface, you put my hands on said tits-" Dieter snarks, pushing his sunglasses down on his face, leaning into your chaise. "Must have done something right, hell, you were practically begging me to marry you, jumped on my lap the moment we got into the convertible-"

"Are you always this vulgar?" you bite back, taking a big gulp of water, some of the liquid spilling down your neck, onto the valley between your breasts. You notice Dieter gulp at the sight, his gaze resting heavily on your chest. He takes a tentative lick on his lips, a small smile forming on the corner of his mouth.

"Only for you, Mrs. Bravo." He winks, smirking.

"Stop that." You quip, crossing your arms around your chest.  

"Stop what, Dollface?" he asks coyly, spreading out on the lounge.  

"Looking at me like the cat that got the cream," you reply, refusing to meet what you imagine to be his smoldering gaze.  

"Well," he breathes, a Cheshire grin on his face. "I most certainly got you to cream, several times-"

"I would think the feelings mutual," you seethe through your teeth. "I mean, I did get you to come in your pants just by sucking on your-"

“You want to land meatier, sexier roles, right? Break free from the rom-com stereotype,” Dieter's PA nervously interjects, “… and you certainly don’t want to face blacklisting in Hollywood due to your recent escapades,” he shoots a meaningful look at his boss. “I believe this marriage might actually be a strategic move. It could help you break out of the girl-next-door image and simultaneously soften Dieter's playboy persona.”

Dieter contemplates this, crossing his legs on the chaise lounge as he glances into the living room of the hotel suite. He smirks at the sight of you with your arms crossed around your chest, recalling the moments when you were pliant in his arms just a few hours ago, begging and whining as he licked and sucked every inch of your delectable skin. His dick twitches at the memory, hungry to be inside of you once more.  

Dieter leans back, his fingers tapping on the armrest as he assesses the situation. “A calculated scandal to redefine my image and give her career a new direction? I suppose there's a certain allure to that.”

Your publicist interjects, “It's a risky move, but it could work. Public opinion is volatile. We need to control the narrative, give them a story that captivates and eventually redeems.”

Dieter smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “So, America’s sweetheart and I play the happy couple, the media eats it up, and we both get what we want.”

You scoff, “This is insane. I’m not entering into a fake marriage for the sake of our careers.”

Dieter raises an eyebrow, "But what if it's not entirely fake?"

You glare at him, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance crossing your face. "What do you mean, not entirely fake?"

Dieter leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We can keep the public guessing. A little ambiguity goes a long way in the celebrity world. We'll play the part when we need to, but in private, we keep things... interesting."

Your publicist looks skeptical, "That could be a recipe for disaster. What if it backfires? What if the public starts hating both of you?"

Dieter smirks, "Let them talk. Controversy sells, my dear. As long as we control the narrative, we can turn this into a win-win situation."

You cross your arms, feeling a headache coming on. The idea of navigating a fake-real marriage with Dieter is the last thing you want. Yet, there's a strange spark of curiosity. What if this insane plan could actually work?

As you contemplate the proposal, the room is filled with tension, waiting for your response. Dieter raises a curious eyebrow at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he places his hand on them. He sees you gulp heavily at that, your legs crossing tentatively as you try to play coy.  Ah, yes, sweetheart. I see you. I caught you in my web, and I'm going to consume every fucking inch-

You take a deep breath, considering the options laid out in front of you. The publicist watches you with a mix of concern and caution, awaiting your decision.

"I don't like it," you finally say, your tone firm. "But if it helps me keep my career and get the roles I want, I'll play along. Just remember, Dieter, if this blows up in our faces, it's on you."

Dieter grins, satisfied with your response. "Trust me, darling, this is going to be a wild ride. We'll be the talk of the town."

Your publicist rubs his temples, clearly not thrilled with the plan but realizing the potential benefits. "Fine, let's go with it. But we need a strategy, a narrative that controls the story. And we must be careful not to let things spiral out of control."

Dieter nods, already plotting the next move. "Leave it to me. We'll craft a story that keeps them guessing and wanting more. Our little secret, darling."

"... and there will need to be some ground rules," you say firmly, uncrossing your legs as you adjust yourself in front of Dieter, presenting the fact that you still haven't put on underwear under your dress. You smirk as he tries to adjust himself, the sight of his spend still leaking out of your pussy leaving him groaning. "If we are going to do this, you have to be in it for real which means... no fucking little Miss Suzy and embarrassing me. You're going to worship me in public, and make an honest wife out of me."

Dieter leans forward as he locks his darkened eyes at you, licking his lips in anticipation. "Oh baby, I'll show you how I'll make an honest wife of you, several times... maybe as soon as all the suits leave-"

"You love this, don't you?" you breathe, toying with the hem of your top, exposing your lace bralette in his direction. "Thinking you have me all riled up, thinking I'll beg for you-"

"Guys-" Dieter's PA attempts to diffuse the tension in the room, looking nervously at your publicist for backup. "Just think about it, okay? I'll have your lawyers draft up a contract for the both of you to look over."

"Why don't you all just get the fuck out and let me fuck my wife in peace?" he retorts, pulling his robe off for good measure, not a care in the world as his dick stands proudly erect. "You're wasting good light, and I intend to fuck her on every surface of this goddamn suite-"

"Lovely," you sigh into the couch, groaning as you pinch the space in between your eyes. "You're a real class act, you know that?"

"Well, I'll just-" His PA stutters, grabbing his messenger bag. "Let's leave them alone, call us when you get back to LA," he murmurs, motioning for your Publicist to follow him.  

"We're not done with this conversation, Dollface," he chides, slinging his bag on his shoulder. "I expect to see you on Monday for the screen test?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be there," you dismiss him with a wave. "I'm sorry, for all of this," you say softly, refusing to look him in the eyes.  

"Not as sorry as you're going to feel once you see the headlines," he warns. "Brace yourself, Dollface. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Taglist: @yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter

[kingyoisland]

My most crack of crack person head cannon is that Shang Qinghua. The great Airplane shooting towards the side. Is a Cuban Chinese man. 🇨🇺🇨🇳

His mom was Cuban and his Dad was Chinese. In his first like. In his second his mom was Chinese and his dad was Cuban. He doesn’t know English but knows Spanish. The biggest reason he’s not outed as a fucking transmigrator early on because of his mumbling is that a lot of it is in Spanish. The entirety of the Who’s your daddy? Airplane monologue is in Spanish but he says the last line in Chinese.

In my head Shang Qinghua, Su Xiyan, and Binghe are the only characters with curly hair. AAAAAAND because the system fills with Plot holes I believe that Biological. Shang Qinghua is Su Xiyan brother through their father. Not being raised together. Kinda like Shang Qinghua’s Father Secret family. (This circles back stay with me). She gives birth to Luo Binghe who is picked up by the old washer woman.

WHO IS Shang Qinghua’s Mother. And because of her Ex Husband with curly hair teaching her new cultural foods she later teaches both her sons this food. Shang Qinghua and later Luo Binghe. and so know NO ONE CAN MAKE A CUBANO OR PERNI LIKE SHANG QINGUA AND LUO BINGHE!! They can make fucking CUBAN FOOD!! It’s also why these two canonically too the average svsss civilian got the head disciple position because of their ability to cook.

Shang Qinghua is a great cook on the level of Luo Binghe because they have the same teacher and I REFUSE. To believe otherwise.

- Tell me you don’t see this vision. Luo Binghe coming to pick up his Shizun after he has a meeting with Mobei Jun’s rat. Your Shizun walks out with a little Box of fucking Pan con Lechón that’s the name your Mother use to call it at least. You haven’t seen anybody now or since that can cook that food. First you get sad and are about to cry because another man cooked for Shizun. Then your mind goes too how is the fastest way I kill the rat without upsetting Shizun. And only then do you pause. IS THAT FUCKING PAN CON LECHÓN!!

- Also Mobei Jun knowing a surprising amount of Spanish just not when it’s spoken very quickly. Well he knows Shang Qinghua’s broken Spanderin. So he knows quite a bit. But like also not a miracle worker if Shang Qinghua talks any faster then normal he cannot understand a thing.

If you want more I have more please god I need to talk to someone about this please!!