#the hotels alone make a pretty long list

[essenceofelegance]

A Year || LN4

summary: A year can really change someone in a lot of ways.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

notes: THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO LMK WHAT YOU THINK! also english is literally my third language and this isn't proof read/ grammar checked so mistakes are bound to appear :(

SMAU/ Written

Summer 2023

Max Fewtrell added a video to their story.

tagged: @/yourusername @/LandoNorris

yourusername posted!

yourusername Ibiza!!

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, maxfewtrell and 94,879 other

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/MaxFewtrell

user1 DJ LANDO!!

user2 y/n feeding us dj land content. she's the real queen here

user3 I thought y/n said she didn't like to go clubbing

➥ user4 maybe she's just there to be with lando

user5 bro did anyone see that video on TikTok? y/n looked so uncomfortable I feel so bad for her

➥ user6 RIGHT?

➥ user7 she's such a good girlfriend, if I were her, I would've just left lando at the club by himself lolol

user8 salivating bc Dj landooo

user9 BARK BARK BARK

➥ user10 y/n looking at this be like...

user11 does anyone know what club theyre at?!! I'm in ibiza I wanna meet them!!

➥ user12 bro leave them alone

➥ user13 @/user12 I don't see a problem 🤷

-

You never liked clubbing.

After all, you were only here because of Lando.

The music was too loud, people were pushing up against you, you never really liked to drink because you had a really low alcohol tolerance, you could make an entire list of why a club was not your go-to hang out.

"Lan," you yelled, trying to speak over the music, "Yeah?" He said, taking one side of his DJ headphones off so he could speak to you.

"Can we go back?" You asked. There was nothing you wanted more than to go back to the comfort of your hotel room with your boyfriend.

"It's only midnight." Lando said, "Why would you wanna go back? Are you not having fun?" Land asks you, but you could tell he wasn't really focused on you. You could see it in his eyes.

"I don't wanna stay any longer, clubbing isn't really my thing." You said, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"Soon, baby, okay?" Lando said, not even giving you a chance to protest before turning back to his DJ set.

You sighed in defeat, before retreating to a quieter corner of the club.

It was going to be a long night, like any other you've spent in a club, with Lando.

Summer 2024

Max Fewtrell added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

yourusername added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

Lando Norris added a photo to their story.

caption: taking pictures of my pretty girl

tagged: @/lando.jpg @/yourusername

yourusername ibizaaaa im backk

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux and 107,897 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/yourbestfriend @/MaxFewtrell

alexandrasaintmleux miss you! ♥ by author

lilymhe ditch him for me!!! ♥ by author

➥ yourusername say less 💍

➥ landonorris ???????? @/AlexAlbon

➥ alexalbon atp im used to it

user1 both of them are so pretty its not fair

user2 no DJ Lando content?!

user3 Not even following y/n because she's lando's girlfriend, im following her bc she's Y/N

user4 that jawline

user5 why do they keep going back to Ibiza

➥ user6 litt, like, why can't they go literally ANYWHERE ELSE

user7 OMGOMGMG I WAS tHERE AND I SAW LANDO GO UP TO Y/N FROM BEHIND AND LITERALLY PULLED HER INTO HIM BY THE WAIST AHHHHHHHHHH

➥ user8 WHATTTTT

➥ user9 picture or it didn't happen

user10 dj lando...?

-

You were about to head to the bar to get another drink, seeing as Lando wouldn't want to leave anytime soon, and your best friend was probably hooking up with some hot Spanish guy, when you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne surrounding you, along with the smell of alcohol.

Lando nuzzled his head into your neck, mumbling something quietly, so quiet you couldn't hear him over the club music.

"What is it?" You said, raising your voice slightly, so he could hear you over the loud buzzing of the club music.

"Nothing." He mumbled, "Missed you, is all."

A small smile unwittingly showed up on your face, "Im gonna go get a drink. Go party."

But, Lando shook his head, "Can we go back to the hotel? I wanna cuddle." He said into your neck, instinctively pulling you closer.

You were shocked, to say the least. A year ago, he wouldn't leave the club no matter how hard you tried to convince him. He was a party animal, but now, he was asking if you wanted to leave.

You checked the time on your phone, it was barely midnight, Lando never left anything before midnight, let alone a club.

"Why, are you feeling sick?" You asked him, turning around to face him.

His arms wrapped themselves back around your waist, "What?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "No." He said, "just wanna cuddle with you."

"That's new." You commented as you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"I always wanna cuddle." Lando said.

"Yeah, but not at the extent of leaving the club early." You said.

"Can we please go?" He mumbled again, looking at you like a puppy.

You nodded after a few seconds, "Never liked clubbing that much anyway, I only come to be with you."

As Lando and you and Lando were heading towards the exit of the club, you bumped into Max (Fewtrell). "Leaving so soon?" He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," Lando nodded, "Going back to the hotel to cuddle with my girl." He said, raising you hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"You've really changed him," Max joked, "Lando being the first to leave? Never in a billion years."

You laughed, "Believe me, I don't believe it either."

"Can we go?" Lando all but whined.

You laughed again, "Okay, okay, lets go."

You waved goodbye to Max and led Lando out the club, and when Max saw his best friend look at you like you were the one who hung the stars in the sky, he knew you'd changed him for the better. And that his best mate was well and truly, in love.

-

yourusername sleepy boy chronicles 🤪

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 108,950 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris

landonorris at least I look cute ♥ by author

➥ yourusername can't disagree with that

user1 how does one fall asleep in the middle of packing?

user2 hes jus like us  🥺

➥ user3 relatable king

landonorris I was only that tired because you kept me up all night doing cardio..

user4 lando and y/n are so cute tgt I cannot

user5 Im convinced Lando only made it to 24 because of Y/n

➥ yourusername I mean..

➥ landonorris hey!

user6 Lando has no bad angles

user7 I SAW THAT LANDO

➥ user8 y/n is just a girl and lando is just a boy.. they need their cardio ;) ♥ by author

➥ user8 Y/N PLS MARRY ME

landonorris ❤️

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 709,897 others

yourusername is this what you do in your free time? take pictures of pretty girls?

➥ landonorris only of the ones that I love more than anything

➥ yourusername so you're saying there's more than one? 🤨

maxfewtrell Happy for you, mate ♥ by author

comments are limited

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, non-consensual spanking, dubious consent, unwanted arousal, degradation kink, face sitting.

I hope I didn’t leave anything behind, but if I did let me know.

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

Tag list: @jmkjournalblog @thecavalrywife @yourbasicqueerie @polaris-likethestar @riosslut @maevaofendora @yippie-kai-gay @w1theredroz3

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy, and as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, so spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two had.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hate both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone, and how could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt, but you couldn't deny that she was attractive. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, and you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time has finally come. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini and when you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted with sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was all about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You’ve never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and gets up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky after eating the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a whore, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio pressed firmly against your arched ass and rested her chin on your shoulder, looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, shaking her head left and right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She ‘tsks’ behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the whore now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything other than being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers  as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[cryptidghostgirl]

omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Bad Idea, Right?

Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1,317

A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.

P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.

You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you. 

But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.

“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”

You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.

Liar.

Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.

But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.

The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve. 

And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.

But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex. 

You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.

But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again. 

And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.

You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.

“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”

You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.

Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”

Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.

But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation. 

He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly. 

But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”

You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.

He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.

He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral. 

He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips. 

“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.” 

His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.

He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.

“Dean, please, just give it to me.”

“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little. 

“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.

“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”

He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.

You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.

“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.” 

As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. 

He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.

“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”

All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

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Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

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[a-dauntless-daffodil]

How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.

Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!

Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)

Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)

GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)

Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!

Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.

Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?

Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.

Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list

Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.

Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3

You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.

Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!

Try better next time with the rule following??

Hope you're doing okay so far????

Help her with the preening!!

Stop giggling. Somehow.

Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!

Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!

Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(

Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)

Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3

[blingblong55]

Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 31

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Character List

“Uhh, should we call Josh?” Mercedes asked as she, Trinity, and Bianca watched Airielle grind her ass on some random man. The three women couldn’t deny that he was attractive and if Airielle wasn’t with Josh.. they might have left them alone. 

“No. Definitely do not call Josh. And I can’t call Jon cause they’re together.” All three woman turned their head back to watch Airielle. They’re eyes growing wide as the man started sliding his hand up her thigh and towards her skirt. 

"Oh my gosh," Trinity whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. "We need to get her out of there. Now." Trinity didn’t wait for a response from Bianca or Mercedes. She marched over to Airielle. “Sis, come on.” 

“Trin!” Airielle shouted, clearly drunk. “Where you been at friend!?” 

Trinity wanted to laugh but she knew something was wrong. She had known Airielle for a year and she had never seen her get drunk like this. She wanted to call Yasmine, but Trinity knew she was home resting with her newborn son.  “I don’t think Josh would be–” Trinity started but Airielle cut her off with a loud scoff. 

“Fuck Joshua Fatu! He’s a liar!”  Trinity’s eyes widened at Airielle’s statement. What the fuck happened? Trinity thought. Airielle and Josh were good when they left the hotel room. 

Josh was pissed, He broke all types of traffic laws as he sped to the nightclub his girl was currently at. His girl that had no problem grinding her ass on another man. Just thinking about it, made him tighten his fist around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. 

When he got the text from Yara, he was pretty sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. But there it was, clear as day: a blurry video of Airielle a hazy smile on her face as she winded her ass against some other man. 

Trinity’s eyes widened as she watched Josh make his way towards them. “Who called him?!” She asked turning toward Bianca and Mercedes who both shook their heads. 

“Where she at?” Josh asked once he walked over to them. He looked out on the dance floor, trying to spot Airielle.

“Brother, just calm down… She’s drunk as fuck right now.” 

“Calm?” Josh hissed. “How the fuck can I be calm when my girl out here rubbing her ass all up on another man?!” 

“I know just–” Trinity started but Josh had walked off from her, in search of Airielle. “Fuck” She muttered and chased after him. 

It didn’t take them too long to find her. Josh’s whole body froze as he laid eyes on Airielle. She was leaning against the bar. A soft but lazy smile on her face as she talked to the same guy from the video. The guy was leaning in close, clearly enjoying the attention. Trinity felt her stomach drop as she watched Josh's expression twist into a mix of anger and hurt.

“Josh just wa–” Before Trinity could finish her sentence, Josh was already storming towards Airielle and the man. His fists were clenched at his sides, jaw tight with barely contained rage.

“Imma need you to back the fuck up.” Josh spat at the man, as he slid into the space between him and Airielle.  The guy looked between Josh and Airielle before holding his hands up and walking away. Josh turned his attention to Airielle who rolled her eyes at him. “What the fuck Rih? Whatchu’ all up on him for?” 

Airielle ignored him and turned her her attention to the bartender to ask for another shot. “I know you hear me talking to you.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Airielle responded, taking her drink from the bartender and trying to walk away from Josh. But he grabbed the drink out of her hand and slammed it back down on the counter. 

“Aye yo. You real life starting to piss me off.”  Airielle sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes again. “Stop rolling yo’ fuckin’ eyes at me.” He growled. 

“Or what?” She countered back. 

Tired of playing games with her. Josh grabbed Airielle and threw her over his shoulder. He then turned to Trinity and told her to go get Bianca and Mercedes or they would be left. 

“Josh! Put me down!” Airielle yelled, drawing the attention of the people they walked past on their way out of the bar. Josh paid them and her no mind. He was in a foul-ass mood and he dared someone to say something to him. He unlocked his rental and threw her in the backseat, climbing in behind her. “What the fuck!” 

“I should be asking you that! Whatchu’ out here grindin’ on another guy for?!” 

“Whatchu’ out here lying about how many times you fucked Yara for?” 

“What?” 

“What?” She mocked with an eye roll “You got caught, stupid. I seen it with my own eyes Joshua! You said it was a mistake! You don’t make the same mistake TWICE!”  Josh just stared at Airielle, he was confused as FUCK! He only slept with Yara once at his apartment. 

“When I ever fucking lie to you Airielle?!”

“I saw the video, Josh! I seen you walk into that room with her!” Josh just stared at Airielle. He had no idea what the fuck she was even talking about. “You know what, Imma just ask Ray to send me the video,” She said as she pulled her phone out of her clutch. Josh couldn’t stop his chuckle. “The hell so funny?!” she snapped, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him.

“You deadass believed a guy who’s been trying to get with you since you came to the main roster? Like I said, I never fucking lied to you. Never. You real-life believing him over me?” Airielle’s fingers paused over her phone screen, as she looked back up at him.  She started to feel bad as she saw the hurt swirling in his eyes.  “That shit with Tracy happened, and what I do? I got all my paperwork from court and showed that shit to you!. I slept with Yara and I tried to start over with you, FOR you! And now you just wanna believe some lame-ass dude who you went on dates with?” Josh sucked his teeth. “Forreal?” 

Airielle’s jaw dropped open, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of his words sank in. When she didn’t say anything Josh scoffed and shook his head. He slid out of the backseat and left the door open for Trinity and Bianca to slide in while Mercedes got into the passenger seat. All four girls jumped as he slammed the driver's door after he got in.  Airielle felt her heart sink deeper into her stomach, a mixture of embarrassment and regret swirling inside her as she sunk into the backseat of the car. 

The car ride back to the hotel was silent. Airielle felt like shit. She knew better than to act first when it came to Josh. And he was right, when has he ever lied to her? She had fucked up their newly reformed relationship and she was certain that he was done with her. For good this time. 

Authors Note: If this seems rushed, I'M SORRY! I needed to end this scene/chapter so I could get to the next part lol. Also.. sorry this took me so long 😫

Just a heads up... next chapter is all about Christoper and Airielle so.. please read the trigger warning and proceed with caution ❤️

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[burntb4bydoll]

hcs for tokio hotel when they’re jealous? i know george would be clenching his jaw SO hard and gus would have such a hard ass side eye

UGH I LOVE JEALOUS BOYS. SO HOT.

Tokio Hotel when they are jealous headcanons

Bill Kaulitz

•SO MANY DIRTY LOOKS OMFG

•hes literally looks like this 🤨

•obviously not at you, but at whoever hes jealous of.

•he sees someone else ‘stealing’ (in his words) your attention away for him and he immediately comes up behind you and hugs you from the back

•pda is not usually his thing, so yk somethings up. You can practically feel his jealously radiating off of him

•if you continue the conversation with the other person, he’ll get impatient and start to leave wet kisses down your neck. And hes making eye contact with the person while doing it

•loves getting you worked up by whispering in your ear

• “babyyyy~ lets go home so I can play with you, hm?”

• “ive been thinking about getting you alone all night…why dont we ditch this asshole and go back to my house?”

Tom Kaulitz

•if anyone’s getting jealous its definitely him

•You’re his. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

•definitely takes a more passive aggressive approach

•he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs you by your chin to kiss you right in front of the other person

•then he’ll just casually look at them after and go “oh hey. I didnt notice you here, my bad.” AND HES SMIRKING WHILE SAYING IT. HES SUCH A LITTLE SHIT

•he’ll ask them such ridiculous questions

• “arent they so pretty? Im lucky, I get to date this angel.”

• “wouldn’t you like to take them out on a date? They’re a real sweetheart, very nice to go out with.”

•LIKE SIR?? WE GET IT. THEY CANT HAVE YOUR S/O. CALM DOWN.

•will randomly stop talking to make out with you?? The other person ends up walking away because they were just sitting there watching Tom shove his tongue down your throat💀

Georg Listing

•silent type of jealous

•he’ll just watch the situation unfold. UNLESS they start getting a little too bold, then he’ll step in

•his jaw is basically locked shut. Hes sucking his cheeks in with frustration every time he sees you smile or laugh at whatever the person said

•eventually he gets sick of watching and hell walk over to where you guys were standing. He wraps his arm around your neck lightly and pulls you to rest your head under his chin

•then he turns the attention away from you and starts a conversation with the person instead

• “hey, who are you again? I don’t think I recognize you. Oh me? Yeah, Im their boyfriend.”

•he wont let anyone flirt with his s/o, especially when its right in front of him🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•LORD HES SO PETTY ABOUT IT

•literally giving them the biggest stink eye anyones ever seen

•if looks could kill, they would be long gone

•he stands next to you with his arms crossed, occasionally scoffing at whatever the person’s talking about

•he’ll chime in every one in a while to correct them on something just to make them look stupid. Again, hes petty😭

•LOL HE WOULD FAKE LAUGH AT WHATEVER JOKE THEY MAKE BUT ITS ONE OF THOSE OBNOXIOUSLY FAKE LAUGHS

•after a while the person is still not getting the hint that you’re taken, so he’ll put his hand on your ass and lead you away from them before you could finish talking

[winchesterwild78]

A Little Bit Stronger 

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, body image issues, Dean being a dick, John being a dick, angst, light smut, assault

A/N: I was stuck in traffic on my way home today and my playlist started playing the song “A Little Bit Stronger” by Sara Evans, and it got me thinking about a story where the reader had dated Dean for years, they broke up and she’s dealing with the loss of their relationship. She’s learning how to move on, and she’s slowly getting better. Then out of nowhere, the green eyed hunter pops back into her life. Mention of Supernatural characters, but doesn’t follow the timeline. 

I’m not sure how long this will be. Maybe a chapter or two, or maybe one really long chapter. 

All work is my own, I don’t give permission for it to be taken or posted anywhere else. Feel free to reblog. 

Minors DNI 18+

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

You pulled the blanket over your head when your alarm went off. Turning over after turning it off. Not feeling like getting up or going to work. Let’s be honest, you didn’t feel like doing much of anything lately. 

Knowing you were going to be late you slowly climbed out of bed. 

Getting out of bed used to be so much easier when you had something, well someone to look forward to. 

You met Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam about 10 years ago. They were on a hunt, the same one you were on too. 

Of course you’d heard all about the Winchester Brothers. The ones Hell itself couldn’t hold. They were feared and respected in the hunter community. 

You remember the night you met them, like it was yesterday. That was the night you fell in love with Dean. You were pretty sure he had fallen in love too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

You were working on clearing a vampire nest, when these two giants came in and tried to take over. 

You and Dean lunged at each other, both thinking the other was a vampire. Dean’s machete swiped against your collarbone, causing a gash to appear, and you to pass out. 

“Dean, she’s not a vamp. Stop! You’re going to kill her!” You remember Sam yelling before you passed out. 

Before Dean got that slice in, you were holding your own against him. 

You woke up a few hours later to the soft whispers of the brothers, and the hum of an air conditioner. 

When you went to sit up, you realized you didn’t have a shirt on. Just your bra. Grabbing the blanket and holding it up, you looked at the brothers. “What happened, where am I, and who the hell are you?” 

Sam offered a soft smile, Dean sat with a tight jaw. “I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. You’re at our hotel. We brought you here to patch you up. When you and Dean were fighting, his machete cut you pretty bad. You passed out from blood loss, so we brought you here.” 

Your eyes blinked a few times before talking, “You’re Sam and Dean Winchester?!” The boys exchanged a quick glance. Sam questioned, “So you’ve heard of us. Which means you’re either a monster, demon or hunter.” 

“I’m Y/N, a Hunter. My parents were hunters and used to hunt with Bobby and Rufus. I grew up in this life, like you guys did.” 

“Well, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I have to ask though, why are you hunting alone?” 

“Oh, my parents retired so to speak and are living a quiet life together, my brother is married, with kids and a “normal” life. My boyfriend and I just broke up.” 

You noticed the older Winchester kept his distance and his eyes locked on you. When you mentioned a boyfriend his jaw tensed more. Normally when someone is staring you down it makes you uncomfortable, but with him it made your heart race and your cheeks flush. 

You’d occasionally make eye contact with him and you were completely mesmerized by his piercing green eyes. He would shift in his chair anytime you looked at him or bit your lip. 

“Well thank you guys for patching me up. I need to get going though. Where’s my shirt?” That’s when you realized your pants were gone too. “And where are my pants?!” Panic filled your body. 

Did they take advantage of you? Sam and Dean saw your panic. That’s when the eldest Winchester spoke. His voice was gruff and sent a shiver through you. 

“Hey, calm down sweetheart, your shirt was ripped and covered in blood, your pants were too. We didn’t think you’d want to sleep in clothes covered in blood.” 

Embarrassment rushed through you. “Yeah you’re right, sorry. I’ve just met my fair share of bad people. I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.”

Dean stood and stepped closer to you, “it’s okay. Just know we would never hurt you.” 

You were lost in each other’s eyes when Sam broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Guys I’m gonna grab some food. I’ll be back soon. Y/N, you like burgers?” “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.” You softly smiled. 

Sam left, closing the door behind him. Leaving you and Dean in the room together. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. Then you broke the silence, “Um, Dean. I really need some clothes. I can’t just walk around in my bra and panties. I don’t want to traumatize you or Sam.” You chuckled softly, but you meant it. 

Sam and Dean were good looking and you’d heard about “Dean’s type”. You were far from it. Where he liked thin, flat stomach, busty women, you had a stomach, extra weight in places, you were thicker than most, and your breasts were slightly different sizes. 

Dean looked at you, tilted your chin slightly and whispered “You could never traumatize me.” Red filled your cheeks and you bit your lip. 

Was Dean Winchester really flirting with you? Most definitely not. Maybe he just sees you as an easy screw, cause you’d give in to him in a heartbeat, but you’d never been a love them and leave them person. 

You pulled the sheet up more and tried to look away. Dean kept his hand on your chin, “I’m so sorry I hurt you sweetheart. I would have never hurt you if I knew you weren’t a monster.” 

Feeing brave you stood up, sheet still around you, you touched his cheek, “I know Dean. It was an accident. I do still need some clothes though. Maybe a shower too.” 

Before your brain could process what was happening, Dean leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “So beautiful” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower. You can borrow some of my clothes.” 

Your mind was racing. Dean Winchester just kissed you. What the hell was going on?! 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and ears as Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathroom. 

“Dean I can do this myself, I’m not that injured.” You tried to protest. “I know, but where’s the fun in that.” He winked at you. 

Holy shit! Dean is flirting with me and that kiss oh my god. I never thought a single kiss could make me instantly wet. 

You smirked at Dean, “What’s your plan Mr Winchester?” “Whatever you want Ms Y/L/N. I know what I want, but it’s up to you.” 

“Dean I don’t know what to say. I’m not like the women you’re usually with. I can’t do one night stands.” 

Dean stepped closer to you and pulled the sheet away, your breath quickened. He leaned down and crashed his lips to yours. Pulling your body flush to his. Your hands went behind his neck and into his hair. Moaning in his mouth you felt your body responding to his touch. 

When his lips pulled back he said “Then don’t.” 

That night Dean and you had sex in the shower, on the bed and the couch. You stayed with the boys after that. Your relationship with Dean deepened. 

About three years ago you and Dean were talking about how your parents were able to get out of the life and live normally. You explained to Dean it was a hard process and one that took a lot of work on their part. They eventually made it. 

Laying in Dean’s arms was your favorite place to be. Your head was on his chest and he mindlessly ran his fingers up and down your arm. 

“I love you baby. So much. Marry me?” You gasped softly and leaned up, “Dean, do you mean it?” “Yes, sweetheart. I want to marry you and have children with you. If your parents could do it, I’m sure we can too.” 

Tears streamed down your face, “Yes, Dean. I’ll marry you.” Dean pulled you into a kiss. When you leaned back he slipped a small diamond on your finger. “It’s beautiful, baby.” 

He kissed you again. The past few years with Dean had been amazing. You both learned to navigate your love while you hunted side by side. Sam had found someone too, Eileen. She was his perfect match. The four of you were great together. 

There was however one obstacle in your life, John Winchester. You’d met John a few times over the years, and each time the tension was palatable. You tried your best to charm him and get him to approve of your relationship, but he refused. He said you were nothing but a distraction and a way for Dean to pass the time after a hunt. The words hurt, but nothing could prepare you for what was to come. 

The morning after Dean proposed, he called Sam and told him he finally did it. Sam and Eileen were over the moon. Then came the phone call that scared you the most. Dean had to call his father. 

Dean sat beside you on the couch and called John. “Hello, Dean.” John’s gruff voice boomed through the line. “Hey dad, I need to tell you something.” “Dean if you’re about to tell me you fucked up and got Y/N pregnant I’ll beat your ass.” Dean’s eyes went wide, “What?! No, dad, she’s not pregnant.” You scoffed when you heard that. “Well, then what is it son?” “Dad, I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married.” 

There was silence on Dean’s end of the phone. The only sound was your heart pounding in your ears. 

You reached for Dean’s hand and he pulled away, getting up. He started pacing the room, his jaw tight with anger and frustration. You knew John was saying something to him, because he was nodding and would occasionally let out a “Yes, sir.” 

It seemed like hours before Dean hung up. When he hung up he looked tense. “Dean, what did he say?” “Don’t worry about it.” He snapped. You flinched at his tone. Dean had never spoken to you like that before.

You looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your hands, “Okay, Dean.” He stormed outside and slammed the front door behind him, making you jump. You were determined to find out what happened, and if Dean wouldn’t talk to you, then you’d go straight to the source. 

Taking out your phone you dialed John’s number. A few rings later John answered, “What do you want, Y/N?” “Well hello to you too, John. I wanted to know what you said to Dean. He was mad and left.” “Good, he came to his senses. Look, you’re a nice girl, but you’re not right for Dean. He doesn’t really love you. The only woman he’s ever loved was Lisa. She’s a better match for him than you could ever be.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, he’d never mentioned Lisa. “John, why are you so cruel? Dean loves me and we are getting married, whether you like it or not.” John laughed and you growled in frustration. “Keep thinking that, sweetheart. I need to go. Have a nice life, Y/N.”

He hung up and you were fuming. 

You tried to call Dean but he didn’t answer. As the night wore on you slipped further into despair. Did Dean leave me? Was John telling the truth about Lisa, and does Dean really still love her? Why won’t he come home? 

You softly cried until the tears wouldn’t fall. You curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Around daybreak you heard Dean stumble in. You sat up looking at Dean. He was drunk, and you noticed the faint smell of perfume and you saw a hickey on his neck.

“Dean, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” “Aww don’t be like that sweetheart, I was just having some fun. It’s been too long since I had any fun.” Your heart clenched at his words. “Dean, I don’t understand. What’s going on with you? You left without saying a word, came home drunk, smelling like another woman and you have a hickey. I thought you loved me, wanted to marry me.” 

“Well you thought wrong. I was wrong. This (he motioned between the two of you) was fun while it lasted, but I think it’s time to move on.” You sat stunned, speechless. “Dean, you don’t mean that. You’re drunk and not thinking clearly.” “No sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong again, I’m thinking very clear. You were right all those years ago, you aren’t my type. I mean maybe if you lost a little weight and actually tried to be pretty.”

You let out a gasp, and before you knew it you slapped him across the face. Your heart broke. “Dean, why are you doing this? What the hell happened?” “I’m finally thinking clearly, my dad reminded me that I’m truly in love with Lisa and she’s the mother of my child, Ben. I owe it to them to make it work.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this. How can you just walk away from us?” “Easy, I’m packing and moving in with Lisa and my son. I spent last night with her and it felt good to be back in her arms.” You felt sick to your stomach. 

Dean walked into your shared room and grabbed his duffel bag and started packing. You sat on your bed and watched him pack, silent tears falling. With each item he packed your heart broke more. As Dean put the last thing in his bag he glanced over at you. With a tremble in your voice you tried one last time, “Dean please don’t walk away from us. I love you, and I know you love me. Please don’t do this. We can figure this out.”

Dean just looked at you and grabbed his bag. You followed him to the door, “Dean, before you go, here.” You slid the ring off your finger and handed it to him. His eyes filled with sadness as more tears fell from yours. “I’ll always love you, Dean.”

He turned and walked out the door. You collapsed on the floor.

It was 3 years ago today that Dean Winchester broke your heart. You’re slowly getting better, but days like today, anniversary days are hard. You moved in with your parents temporarily, got a pretty good job working at the office your brother worked at, and now you had your own place. 

As you opened your closet to get dressed for work you glanced over and saw the t-shirt Dean loaned you the first night you met. Your fingers lightly brushed over the fabric and the happier memories came flooding back. 

You’d kept in touch with Sam and Eileen. They had since gotten married and had a little boy. They left hunting and Sam went back to law school, becoming a lawyer. You’d occasionally ask about Dean, and Sam would tell you he was okay. You also found out that John had died in a car accident about a year ago. You knew Dean would have been devastated. 

You got to work about 10 minutes late. Sitting at your desk your mind wandered to the thought of Dean. You missed him so much, but with each passing day you got a little bit stronger. You knew you’d never fully get over him. He was the love of your life and you were supposed to marry him and have his children. Now he’s in the arms of another woman. 

Your friend from work, Libby invited you to the bar with her and a few other colleagues. It was Friday and it had been a long week. At first you weren’t going to go, but decided to drink until you forgot him. You went home after work, changed and caught an Uber to the bar. 

You decided to wear your jeans, low heel boots and a nice top that revealed just enough. You put your hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup. Stepping out of the Uber you saw Libby at the door. “Hey, Y/N! So glad you could make it.” She pulled you into a hug. 

You and the rest of the people in your group settled at a table at the back of the bar. Drinks flowed and you were starting to get tipsy. One of your male colleagues, Ryan, came out too. He’d flirted a few times with you, but you never gave in. You, Libby and a few other girls got up and started dancing. Libby leaned into you and said “Don’t look now, but Ryan is watching you.” You glanced over and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You smiled at him. “Yeah, I don’t know.” “Come on girl, it’s been 3 years. You can move on.” You hadn’t thought about Dean all night, now he’s all you could think about. 

“I’m, um, gonna get some air.” Libby nodded sadly. She knew how much you had loved Dean and how much it broke your heart. You grabbed your jacket and walked outside. Taking out your phone you scrolled through the pictures of you and Dean. You sighed sadly, “I miss you so much Dean. I miss how happy we were, how in love we were. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.” 

Tears started to flow freely. 

You stood outside a few minutes longer looking at the pictures of a happier time. The sound of a voice pulled your attention up. “Hey ya sweetheart.” That voice, you knew that voice. You looked up and saw Dean standing in front of you. He looked good. You were speechless. 

“How are you? You look good, sweetheart.” “Dean…I…” Your words stuck in your throat. He stepped closer to you, and his thumb brushed your cheek. “Still as beautiful as ever.” 

Fury filled your body after what he said, “Dean, what are you doing here?” You stepped away from him. “I was here at the bar tonight with some work buddies and I saw you. I needed to talk to you. It’s been too long.” 

You scoffed, “It’s been too long?! Dean, you’re the one who walked away, not me. You threw our relationship away. You proposed and then the next day you slept with another woman and left me for her. Oh and let’s not forget I found out you had a kid I didn’t know about. I heard you were engaged again, Congratulations. I hope you and Lisa have a wonderful life together.”

You started to walk away, but Dean grabbed your arm, “Baby, please.” You tried to free yourself from his grip, “Don’t baby me. You lost that privilege when you chose another woman over me. It’s taken me 3 years to finally get to where I am. I don’t cry myself to sleep every night, and I don’t question my worth as much anymore. I was doing all of that because of YOU! I gave you everything, EVERYTHING! I loved you. I wanted to marry you and have your children. Goodbye, Dean.”

As you started to walk away you glanced at him one last time, “Just so you know Dean, I still love you. I wish I didn’t, but I will always love you.” You walked away, heading towards the bar so you could get your Uber. You needed to get away from Dean. Just being near him made your heart clench with pain and love. 

Dean stood frozen, he had been keeping a secret from you he desperately needed you to hear, but would you listen? Would you really care? 

Just as you reached the door, Dean grabbed your arm, “Y/N, please I need to tell you something.” You turned and looked into his green eyes, you saw pain, sadness and love. “Y/N, I love you sweetheart, I was a fool to push you away. I want to come home to you. Please baby.” You’d waited 3 years to hear him say that, but your heart was scared. You wanted him to profess his love to you, but was he being genuine? You were afraid what would happen if he wasn’t, you couldn’t bear to get over him again. 

“Dean, it’s too late. You’re in love with Lisa, she’s your fiance and had your son. I can’t and I won’t compete with that.” He stepped closer to you, “Sweetheart, she’s not my fiance, we broke up, and Ben isn’t mine. She said he was, but he isn’t. I ended things with her because I realized I wasn’t in love with her. There’s been only one woman in my life that I truly loved, well love. Because I still do. I love you.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say. You said some really horrible things to me.” “I know, but I knew if I didn’t you wouldn’t let me go. I’m so sorry. I‘ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix this, fix us.” “Then why did you do it, Dean?” 

“When I talked to my dad that day he played into my fears, my fears of losing you, of our children having to grow up without you or me. He also told me it was safer with Lisa and that Ben was mine. I’m sorry sweetheart, I believed him. My life has been miserable the past three years. There hasn’t been a single second where I didn’t think of you.”

You scoffed, “Then why did it take you three years?! If you were that miserable, why did you warm her bed for three years, while mine was cold? Dean, I can’t do this. Please just let me go.” You turned as the tears started to fall. 

Making your way to the front of the bar, you called an Uber and waited out front for it. Standing outside waiting, Ryan came out of the bar to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, leaving so soon?” “Yeah, I’m just tired and need to go home.” Ryan touched your arm, “Hmm that’s a shame. I was hoping to have gotten at least one dance with you.” You smiled softly as a blush filled your cheeks.

Ryan was a good looking man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about him. Maybe it was the raw emotions you were feeling, or the bravery brought on by the alcohol, but you leaned into Ryan and placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled you closer to his body and his hands went in your hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth. 

As the Uber pulled up you and Ryan climbed in. Not able to keep your hands off each other. Once in the car, Ryan started kissing your neck. You leaned your head back and as you looked out the window you saw Dean standing on the sidewalk with a look of shock and sadness on his face.

A few minutes later you and Ryan were walking into your apartment. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Clothes began to fly and hands roamed. You moaned into his mouth as his body hovered over yours. You hadn’t had sex with anyone since Dean. 

Trying to push Dean out of your mind you decided sex with Ryan would help. As things heated up between you and Ryan, you grabbed a condom from the side table. Ryan slid it on and pushed in. You gasped at the feeling. He definitely didn’t give you time to be ready or adjust like Dean did. Ryan was rushing, you tried desperately to chase your release, but it felt like Ryan was only concerned with him. Stop! Stop comparing him to Dean! He’s not Dean, he will never be Dean.

Tears began to fall. You were about to tell Ryan to stop, but his lips crashed on yours in a forceful kiss. He wasn’t gentle at all. His thrusts were hard and angry. You weren’t enjoying yourself. Trying to slip your hand between the two of you, so you could get off, proved to be the wrong move. Ryan became angry, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “I’m trying to get off too.” “No! You don’t get to touch yourself. I’ll get you off.” “Well, you’re not going to fucking me like you are.” Ryan slapped you across your face. 

You screamed in pain and tried to push him off of you. “Get the fuck off of me!” “No! You don’t get to start this then tell me to stop.” “The fuck I can’t! Get the fuck off NOW!” Just as you were about to knee him, you felt Ryan being pulled away. 

When you looked up you saw Dean, he pulled Ryan off of you and punched him over and over. “She said get off of her! Don’t you ever fucking touch her again or I’ll kill you! Now get the fuck out!” Dean growled. 

You’d grabbed the sheet and pulled it around you. Ryan grabbed his stuff and left calling you a whore under his breath. As soon as he was gone Dean was at your side, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?” The tears started to flow freely as Dean pulled you into his arms. His sweet, protective arms. You buried your face in his chest and cried as he held you. “I’m sorry Dean. I left with him to make you jealous. This is all my fault.” 

“No baby, this isn’t your fault. You’re okay now, he’s gone.” “And you’re here. Protecting me like always.” “I’ll always protect you, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.” 

Dean helped you up and you went to the bathroom to clean up and check your face. There would be a bruise, but things could have been so much worse. You got cleaned up and dressed, when you walked back into your bedroom, you saw Dean laying on your bed with his boxers on and nothing else. “Come on sweetheart, get some sleep. I’ve got you.” He offered his arm and you curled up next to him. You laid on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you drifted off to sleep.

When Dean was sure you were asleep, he placed a soft kiss on your head, “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

Part 2…..coming soon

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[yxtubers]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: everybody knows that they like each other, so matt decides to finally do something about it

warnings/notes: kissing? one use of Y/N, pining (sort of), happy ending

requested?: yes! number 19 “c’mere…” and number 29 “them being in denial but everyone else knows they are in love” from my dialogue and actions prompt list

also requested by others ↴

- matt and the reader being really good friends who clearly have feelings for each other and are always flirty towards each other, and after he goes on tour he realizes how much he needs her and just kisses her once hes back

- friends to lovers with Matt where they share secret kisses and affection and when his brothers ask whats going on he just realizes he needs to confess to her? :)

> > >

It’s always been painfully obvious how much you and Matt liked each other. Chris and Nick knew it, Madi and Nate knew it - hell, even the viewers could tell there was something more to your friendship than meets the eye.

The more you two hung out, the more the tension grew. It got to the point where Nick and Chris had began avoiding being alone with you two - unless the other was there to prevent them from being a third wheel. All of this was so evident to everybody. Everybody except, of course, you and Matt.

The triplets were on tour for the past few weeks.

Matt had been face-timing you pretty much any time he could - he would tell you about his day, you’d tell him about yours and remind him just how much you missed him, to which he would reply “I miss you too. I’ll be back soon”.

Almost every single call ended with an “I love you”.

Chris and Nick would just look at each other and shake their heads. Your obliviousness was cute, but becoming increasingly annoying to both of them.

How could you guys not realize that you liked each other?

Matt hung up another call from you, setting it down with a giddy smile on his face. He made eye contact with his brothers, only to blush immediately upon seeing their faces. They knew. Of course they did - everybody did.

“What?” he asked.

Chris just raised his eyebrow at him as if to say ‘seriously?’

“You both are so stupid,” said Nick before turning around and entering the hotel bathroom to shower.

This only made Matt’s face grow hotter as he looked at his younger brother for an explanation. Chris only shook his head as he looked at the ceiling for a moment.

He came up and patted Matt on the shoulder, giving him a pitiful look. “You gotta tell her, dude.”

And in that moment, Matt knew he was right.

It felt like everything in him just clicked. Like all the hidden, longing glances he’d send your way, and the small kisses of adoration he’d place on your forehead - finally made sense. He wondered how he held off for this long. Maybe he enjoyed having you to himself, keeping your secret and private conversations about the future close to his heart. They felt special - you were special to him.

But it was high time that he told you that instead of keeping it behind closed doors where only your tired, sleepy ears would hear. Where you would forget his declaration of love come morning. He needed you tell you, to make you hear it, to make you remember.

Matt fell asleep with a jumble of anxiety and excitement - or maybe they were the same thing.

That night, he dreamt of you.

- - -

He remembered it so vividly. It was practically engraved in his head forever.

You were sitting on the docks, staring out onto the water. Your skin glowed beautifully in the sun, your eyes sparkling with the reflection of the water. Something about the afternoon sun complemented you so perfectly.

He recalled wanting to stare at you forever.

“What’s going on up there?” your gentle voice called.

He appeared beside you then, sitting right by you, his shoulder brushing yours. Everything in your body was yelling at you to scoot closer, to press your arm against his. And so you did.

Matt could sometimes still feel your fingertips brushing his hair out of his eyes, even to this day. He could never get enough of how soft you were around him - how much fragility you treated him with. It was almost as if he was special; and to you, he was.

“Just thinking…” he replied, his words trailing off as he looked down at your hands. Your hands which were dangerously close to his.

His finger twitched needily, their desire to entwine with yours becoming unbearable.

“About?”

Your smile was infectious, and he could’ve help but join in soon after.

He shrugged. “Nothing in particular,” he responded.

Yet you both knew. You knew there was something in the air that day - something electric; intoxicating. He wanted to be closer to you, not that it was possible. Your elbows were glued together, and your eyes never left each other’s for even one second. Somehow, he still wanted more. He wanted you to be his, and him yours.

But he never got the chance to say it then.

- - -

Yawning, you checked the time on your phone. 11AM. Usually you would call Matt in the mornings. He would tell you how cute you looked all sleepy and grumpy, and you’d tell him to shut up before brushing your teeth together on face-time.

Today though, he didn’t answer.

You tried to suppress your disappointment as you brushed your teeth alone, the sound of the water being the only thing to keep your mind occupied.

Matt was always a constant in your life. No matter the time or day, he was there with open arms, beckoning you to him. There was never a moment where you were alone - both figuratively and literally.

He was your home. Only yours.

Some days you would use your spare key to get into the triplet’s apartment just so you could sleep in Matt’s bed, enveloped in his scent.

It’s not like it was the first time you’ve slept there. You and him shared a bed many times.

Today was one of those days. Walking out of Matt’s bathroom, your teeth feeling fresh, you began to make your way to his room.

You smiled as you were reminded of a vivid memory with him.

- - -

It was a week before he was set to go on tour. You were sitting at the edge of his bed, waiting for him to show you the new clothes he bought.

Kicking your legs back and forth, you playfully groaned at him to hurry up. His laugh reverberated throughout your chest, traveling from the bathroom straight into your soul, your heart clenching at the sound.

You could listen to it forever.

“Alright, alright. Whatd’ya think?” he said as he emerged from behind the closed door.

Your eyes dropped to his arms and chest, admiring his new sweater. The clothing hugged his body perfectly, engulfing him in what looked to be a really comfortable fabric.

Admiring how well the color matched his eyes, you almost didn’t notice his hand waving in your face.

“Hello? Anybody home?” he joked.

Eyes meeting his once again, you smiled. Somewhere in between there though, your gaze managed to fall on his lips for a split moment - a split moment that he did not miss.

Matt swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your stare. To you, he looked like the most handsome thing in the world. The way his hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring his view - the way his fingers twiddled with the sleeve of his new jumper - everything. It made him look all the more beautiful to you.

“You look pretty,” you said, eyes never leaving his.

He blushed before mumbling a quick thank you - making sure to add in the fact that he wasn’t pretty; he was a boy.

But in your eyes, he was the prettiest.

- - -

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by the sound of keys jingling. The boys weren’t supposed to be home for another 2 days.

The thought made you worry. Had something happened? Was there an emergency? All of a sudden all you could think of was Matt. Had he gotten hurt?

Rushing down the hallway, you were met with a pair of frightened blue eyes. He hadn’t expected you to be here. He wanted to mentally prepare before he came to see you - but apparently he had no choice. This was happening now.

Your heart stopped in it’s tracks, breath hitching at the sight of him. He was absolutely breathtaking.

“Matt?” you breathed out.

Seeing him in the flesh made your head feel fuzzy. You hadn’t seen him in weeks - to be honest, it felt more like forever. You almost forgot how nervous he made you, how your legs turned to jelly around him - how your stomach erupted in butterflies every time he gave you that signature smirk.

You knew you missed him, but it surprised you just how much.

Noticing that his cheeks were dusted a rosy pink, you presumed it was from the heat - or perhaps from the tension in the room.

Matt dropped his bags onto the floor, his keys clashing down straight after. Footsteps advancing towards you, he began to make his way to you, a newfound confidence coursing through his veins.

Before you had a chance to speak, his hands were on either side of your face, pulling you in. It felt like he was a magnet, and you were a piece of metal being drawn to him.

Lips meeting in a flurry of desperation, you sighed in relief.

It’s as if him kissing you made you realize that he was real; and that he came home to you.

You ignored the scratch of his stubble as your hands flew to the back of his neck, the other one burying itself in his brown curls. This was better than you could’ve ever imagined.

Matt pulled away first, his breathing uneven and quick. His hands remained on your cheeks, thumb rubbing across your jaw momentarily.

Your eyes were still closed, relishing in the excitement of the moment.

Once you opened them, you were met with a dopey smile and an adorably blushed face.

“That was-“ you said, taking a breath.

“Yeah,” Matt finished, resting his forehead onto yours. His breathing was still rapid, but it was calming down, as well as his racing heart.

Your hands gently tugged his palms away from your face, holding them in yours instead. His wish came true as he finally laced your fingers with his. He felt like he could explode right about now.

Matt lifted his head so that he could look at you.

“Where did that come from?” you said as you giggled.

Matt simply smiled at you. “It was a long time coming. I should’ve done it sooner.”

It felt like you two stood there for hours, just longingly gazing at each other. Matt bit his lip in thought, his eyebrows creasing.

“Y/N?” he said.

You hummed in response, your eyes drooping at how content you felt.

“I love you.”

He had said it before, of course - but this time, you knew what he really meant. All the emotions he had been bottling up came flowing out with every syllable that left his mouth. You could see it in the way his brows were knitted together, in the way his hands squeezed yours, rubbing circles into your skin shamelessly.

“I know,” you said. “I love you too.”

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck before pulling him in. This was all you had wanted for the past two weeks. Just him.

“C’mere,” you said, hugging him tightly.

His arms found refuge around your waist, tugging you unimaginably closer. He breathed in your scent, finally feeling at home. God, he was hopeless.

Fingers wrapping around your waist and hips, he practically squeezed the life out of you as he held you to him. He never wanted to let go, and he was starting to think that maybe he wouldn’t.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against the crook of your neck. His voice was muffled, but you could still make it out.

“I missed you too.”

At last, he got what he wanted. He was yours, and you were his.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

[xenith-eats-stars]

me and my buddy @cartoon-leafe came up with a ton of those “she [X] on my [X] till i [X]” memes, so here’s all of them

under the cut bc it’s a pretty long list

she 5 on my nights till im at freddy’s

she asriel on my photoshop till i flowey

he old on my man till i yaoi

she megalo on my vania till im stronger than you

she W. on my D. till i gaster

she tomo on my dachi till i life

she spring on my lock till i failure

she insane on my clown till i posse

she scott on my pilgrim till i defeat her 7 evil exes

she team on my fortress till i 2

she nagito on my komaeda till her rhinestone eyes are like factories far away

she tally on my hall till im hidden in the sand

she I/ on my Me/ till i Myself

she cicada on my days till i pack my stuff

she ink on my machine till i bendy

she X on my men till i mutate

she dwell in my vault till i fallout

she W on my M1 till i believe in magic

she Jack on my Skellington till im the pumpkin king

she amazing on my digital till i circus

she Honda on my Odyssey till i get chills, theyre multiplying

she Hazbin on my Hotel till i get redeemed

she Monty on my Gator till i wanna rock and roll

she pound my head till im against the kitchen floor

she hammer on my car till i explode

she pyramid on my head till im silent

she dungeon on my dragon till i roll a nat 20

she 9 on my 11 till i never forget

she laplace on my angel till i hurt people? hurt people!

she poké on my balls till i catch ‘em all

she rock and roll on me all night till i party every day

she lady on my bug till im miraculous, simply the best

she Miles on my Morales till im like what’s up danger

she ink on my splat zone till i splashdown

she calamari my inkantation till i stay fresh

she ebb on my flow till i dont get cooked

she anarchy my rainbow till i catch her later

she [[HYPERLINK BLOCKED]] on my [[KEYGEN]] till i become a [[BIG SHOT]]

she birds are singing on my flowers are blooming till kids like you burn in hell

she autism on my spectrum till i disorder

she obsessive on my compulsive till i disorder

she golden on my freddy till it’s me

she appreciate my skeleton till i can feel my mind unweave again

she animation on my meme till i headbop

she Chappell on my Roan till im hot to go

she azumanga on my daioh till i america ya!

she project on my diva till i mega mix

she little on my shop of horrors till i feed her to a plant

she watt on my pad till i lemon

she pop on my team till im epic

she fire on my paw till i alone will save our clan

she legends on my arceus till i make the first pokédex

she ponder my orb till i ruminate

she migrate my coconut till i swallow

she stardew on my valley till i farm

she visit my friend till im the visiterrrr

she my on my little till i pony

she swipe left on character ai till i ask her a question

she Mandela my Catalogue till i will know her greatest fear

she scarlet on my violet till i time travel

she star on my platinum till i the world

she hatsune on my miku till im the #1 princess in the world

she miracle on my musical till im alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune

she harpy on my hare till i bury all her children

[midnightfantasiez]

[00:50AM] Taste Of You - Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: your boyfriend was convinced that he absolutely nailed the performance for the night, and he was also going to make sure that his partner was fully aware of every single detail he had shown on stage and finally indulge in his little reward after the show.

PAIRING: idol!Sangyeon x afab!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: possessive bf Sangyeon hihi 😃, TONS of kissing, hickeys, pretty much a hot yet soft steaming kissing scene in the hotel room and under the sheets 😀, teasing, mentions of oral (reader receiving), mentions of alcohol, Sangyeon is tipsy, dirty talk, Hyunjae makes a little cameo, petnames (baby, babe), a little spoiler on the zeneration 2 concert so beware, proofread once

WORD COUNT: 930

A/N: greetings🧍🏻‍♀️i apologise for being gone for so long irl has just been a total mess 😭 here's a little short one to make up for it; pls bear with me i haven't written in months so this ain't my best work 😭 but thanks to my precious sister wives @daisyvisions @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers for encouraging me & convinced me that this idea i had was doable ily 💗

Sangyeon isn’t a possessive guy. Well, at least when he isn’t tipsy or drunk. 

Sure, he is the best boyfriend one could ever ask for—caring, gentle, and the most affectionate golden retriever-like guy stuck in a big muscular man’s body. He was someone you always craved for attention, obviously because you knew he always gave the best cuddles and hugs after an exhausting day. 

It didn’t matter to him if he had the absolute worst or tiring day—he would always make sure that you were his number one priority, and taking care of you was always high up on his to-do list on a daily basis. 

Many people would think that after a show, let alone a 4-hour concert, your idol boyfriend would be exhausted and crash straight to his hotel room to sleep in until the next morning. Instead, he would bring you to the best izakaya in town, having a little romantic late dinner while chatting away until midnight before returning to the hotel room to rest.

But not this time. 

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what made him snap because for one you were certain that he was in this tip-top condition today—he made no mistake on stage, had a solid one-minute solo performance during one of the songs, and hell even hit every single one of his high notes perfectly. 

The moment he was done packing up and saying goodnight to all of the staff and managers, he quickly came to look for you and grabbed your wrist before dragging you away while conversing with one of the members. You’ll have to treat them to a meal as an apology because Hyunjae always ensured he was getting all the attention and would get sulky whenever he got ignored. (You will be blaming Sangyeon for this later on). 

There weren’t many words exchanged before the both of you were back in your hotel room, and your boyfriend immediately slammed the door shut behind you before pining you against it, staring straight into your eyes before moving his vision down to your lips.

Without warning, he instantly closes the distance between you two, kissing you feverishly as if he were tasting your soft sweet lips for the very first time. A smile formed between the kisses as he tasted his absolute favourite mango lip balm he gave you on your birthday. Taking the scent from your lips, he moves them to your neck, earlobe, and eventually your collarbone—his favourite part to suck on. 

Little by little, he began stripping you down and did the same for himself before transferring to the bed and under the sheets, kissing you nonstop and making sure that you too were devouring his scent and tongue as he wrapped his around yours.

He finally breaks the kiss off since you both entered the hotel room and spoke for the first time after meeting him backstage at the concert hall. “Tell me, how did you find the show tonight?” 

“You never fail to impress me every single time,” you panted, trying your best to catch your breath before his lips connected back to yours and pushing them deeper each second. 

“Did you like the new hair, babe?” 

“You know that black hair just brings out the devil within you- It makes me go insane every time you tease me like that-” 

He chuckled. “So my plan succeeded. Next, tell me about my solo performance. Walk it through with me, baby.”

“You’re so-” 

Sangyeon pushes his tongue into your mouth hushing you for a second. “Nuh-uh, not the right answer. Come on, you can do better than that.” 

“I- You’re insanely captivating to the point that I’m jealous that everyone else gets to see it…”

“So you’d rather I just put on a one-man show for you? Is that what I’m hearing, babe?” He now moves his kisses back to your neck, sucking them gently with the intention of leaving hickeys that will appear very visibly in a couple of hours. 

Trying your best to not dive too deep into this particular topic because you know that Sangyeon wasn’t going to let you off the hook easily—hell, he’s going to tease you about it for god knows how long if you gave in to his indulgence. 

The next time he moves his lips back up to meet yours, you quickly place your fingers onto his, stopping him from planting another kiss before you decide to turn the tables against him for a second. “Your breath stinks of whiskey.” 

It took him off guard for a second as his eyes widened with your response, but you should’ve known that your boyfriend isn’t gullible and he’s quick to catch on, and within seconds he intertwined his fingers with yours, pushing them away before going in to seal his lips again with yours.

“Not like you haven’t tasted it before anyway. Besides, you’re going to taste so much better with that hint of alcohol on you,” he smacked his lips, and he quickly gave you a little peck before he finally decided to travel down in between your thighs. 

“W-What are you doing, babe?” 

Lifting his head up for one final look, a smirk was plastered across his face, and he gave you a silent warning—whispering softly about what he was going to do next.

One that you knew that you were going to be doomed as hell. 

“Your little pussy is going to taste heavenly with the hint of whiskey on them, and I’ll make sure that you’re going to moan as loud as you can for me tonight.”

A/N: btw i am unwell after what he did during the concert....iykyk (which is also why i got inspired to write this the brainrot is horrible 😔)

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo @serinebsblog @daisyvisions @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers (join my perm taglist here!)

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 1

Chapter Links: Chapter 1 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour! ---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–-- A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Arriving in Hell had been a difficult adjustment, but you figured that was likely by design and not some personal failing on your part.  You'd stumbled out of the gates of Hell right into the aftermath of what you now know was an extermination; alone and terrified amidst the burning rubble and mutilated corpses that littered the ground.  

You were lucky in a sense, even though it didn't feel like it at the time.  Everyone is usually pretty busy in the days immediately following an invasion from Heaven, too occupied looting bodies for valuables and deleting the newly deceased from their phone's contact list to give much attention to a new arrival.  The Gates of Hell were usually swarmed by traffickers looking for new merchandise and mid-level thugs looking to make an easy deal for a soul or two, so you were able to slip through the cracks and wander the outskirts of Pentagram city largely unnoticed while most of the sinners were either still in hiding or sleeping off their celebratory hangovers.  

Initially, you stuck out like a sore thumb, clad in the baggy dress that you'd been buried in; a garment that had likely been looted from your Grandmother's closet based on the large shoulder pads and unflattering mauve color.  You figured that your family had deemed all the dresses you actually owned and liked as too inappropriate for funeral garb, which aligned with how they usually regarded your fashion choices.  The fabric was uncomfortable, starched stiff and itchy against your skin, so you didn't feel any guilt about using your newly discovered claws to shred a slit into the back of the skirt to make room for your long and incredibly poofy tail.

Upon further examination in the cracked glass of an abandoned store front, you discovered that you also now possessed a set of rounded black ears atop your head and large, dark smudges around your eyes that made it look like you'd slept with mascara on for a week straight.  

The powers that be had, apparently, found it suitable for you to spend the rest of eternity living as a raccoon.  

And while you greatly preferred your animal form to many of the other, more intimidating body shapes prowling the streets of Pentagram City, looking what most people would consider adorable wasn't necessarily a desired trait in Hell.  Wide-eyed prey animals were quick to disappear, materializing weeks later on posters outside of strip clubs and porn theaters.  

You'd darted from the predatory glances of other sinners, spending your first nights in Hell sleeping curled up behind back alley dumpsters; tearing through the freshest smelling trash bags for scraps of food with a voracity that surely made your Raccoon forefathers shed tears of pride.  

Repeatedly choosing to wander down the least sinister looking streets had inevitably led you to the heart of Cannibal Town, an antiquated borough that looked like it had been lifted straight out of the background of a classic movie.  Naively, you had assumed that the more polished appearance of buildings and fixtures meant that the area was safer than the dilapidated city center you had wandered in from.  That notion had been quickly dispelled when you stumbled across a group of middle aged women sitting on a park bench, merrily chatting as they took turns ripping hunks of flesh from an obviously human leg with their sharpened teeth.  

Thankfully, the abundance of readily available, post Extermination sinner flesh kept the cannibals well satiated and dissuaded them from making you the victim du jour.  That, and the fact that more than one cannibal had gleefully admitted to you that they found raccoon meat too gamey for their liking. 

You'd managed to secure a job fairly easily, with numerous businesses looking to fill vacancies from recent employee murders.  In the end, you'd settled on working at a small butcher shop a couple blocks away from the main promenade.  You'd been unwillingly charmed by the store's on the nose name, ‘Time to Kill’, and the fact that it supplemented your meager paycheck by providing you with a small room above the storefront to live in.  

Hal, the owner of the store, was a heavy-set man with a bushy mustache that wouldn't look out of place attached to a broom handle.  He'd been admittedly skeptical about your potential as a butcher when they had to tuck a bucket into the back room for you to throw up in after the first half-dozen times you'd hurled when breaking down your first carcass.  

But you'd slowly grow accustomed to the grizzly task, focusing on the fact that you were cutting up meat and ignoring that it was likely human in origin.  Hal was pleased by your hard-working nature, but mostly he was thrilled by the fact that you didn't help yourself to a five-finger discount like the rest of his employees did.  

“Seriously,” Hal had said, his mustache twitching in displeasure .  “They're eatin’ all the fingers!”

Day after day passed without much distinction, working from sunup ‘til sundown hacking up bodies for pennies on the dollar.  It wasn't much of a living, but since technically you weren't even living at all, you did your best to be content with your lot in death.  

After all, it was your discontent in life that had landed you here in the first place.  

And if waking up in literal Hell wasn't a wake up call to turn over a new leaf you didn't know what was.  

You were coming up on the first anniversary of your arrival in Hell and the citizens of the Pride Ring were all in a tizzy trying to stock up on supplies to last through the impending Extermination.  Drug dealers were working double shifts to keep up with demand and the liquor stores had long since sold out of their top brands and had switched to selling bathtub gin to supply their customers with.

The line outside of Time to Kill was already wrapped around the block by the time you had flipped the deadbolts, barely managing to escape being crushed by the door as it crashed open; a densely packed group of cannibals rushing inside.  You'd fled from the crowd into the back workroom, taking up your post at a carving station with a cleaver in hand, ready to do your part to supply the hungry masses.

The hours bled together as you skinned and chopped, filleted and ground; so focused on the tasks before you that you didn't realize your coworker had been calling your name until they slapped their hand firmly down onto your shoulder.

“You okay?” They asked, glancing at your dewy face with concern.

“Oh- yeah, I'm alright,” you assured them, placing your cleaver down across the cutting board and wiping your bloody hands on a nearby towel.  “What's up?”

“It's your turn up front,” he said, gesturing towards the front of a store with his stubby thumb.  “Ms. Rosie is here.”

“Ms. Rosie?”

“Yeah, she's the Overlord here in Cannibal Town,” your coworker explained, elbowing you out of the way to take your place at the cutting station.  “Fresh Meat deals with the Overlords- shop rule.”

“Oh,” you murmured nervously, wandering over to the sink to wash your hands.

“Might want to hurry up, there!” one of the other workers called over her shoulder as she dropped a bunch of bone fragments into an awaiting bin.  “Your chance of survival decreases every minute you keep an Overlord waiting!”

You slammed the handle of the faucet to the off position and quickly took off to the front counter, your coworkers laughing raucously at your expense while you frantically wiped your hands dry on your blood-spattered apron.

The politics of Hell were still largely unfamiliar to you.  But even though you did your best to keep your head down and nose in your own business, you'd gleaned a little knowledge from snippets of overheard conversation in the butcher shop.  You weren't entirely sure what Overlords did exactly, but you knew that in order to become one you had to be powerful.

So it was with great trepidation that you stepped into the front of the store, doing your best to hide how absolutely terrified you were, but knowing your stiff legged gait and tight smile likely gave you away.  

The tall, elegant form of Ms. Rosie wasn't what you'd been expecting.  While dressing up was the norm in Cannibal Town, Rosie took it to a new level; looking as though she never let a fabric less expensive than silk grace her form.  But despite the absolutely enchanting picture her elegance painted, the aura of raw power she exuded prickled your skin and caused your tail to poof up in an instinctual, and utterly useless, bid for intimidation.  

“Well, look at you!” Rosie drawled, her dark eyes widening in delighted surprise as you approached the counter.  “It's been a while since we've gotten someone new in town.  Where've you been hiding, sweetheart?”

“Uh- my room, mostly,” you manage to stammer out, nervously smoothing down your ruffled tail fur.  

“That's a real shame, keeping a cute face like yours all cooped up!” Rosie cooed.  “How long ya’ been living in my part of the city?”

“Nearly a year now, Ma'am.”

“A whole year?” Rosie gasped.  “You weren't kidding ‘bout keeping to yourself, huh?”

Not really knowing what else to say, you opt to helplessly shrug before reaching for an order pad and pen.  

“So, uh- what can I get for you today, Ms. Rosie?”

“What's still available?”

“I won't lie, it's pretty slim pickings right now.  But I was just working on a pretty nice looking rack of ribs if you're interested.”

“Ribs it is then,” Rosie smiled, patiently waiting as you disappeared to the backroom and returned with multiple wrapped bundles of meat, all cinched together in a stack with fraying twine.  

“Thank you, darling,” she said, passing the stack of meat to one of the well-dressed attendants waiting beside her.  “Add it to my tab, will ya’?”

“Of course, Ma'am,” you agreed readily, sliding the sale record underneath the cash register tray for Hal to deal with later.  

“Oh, and sweetheart?” Rosie called out, catching your attention, as you moved to assist the next customer in line.  “If you make it through Extermination Day, make sure to swing by and visit me for tea sometime, will ya’?  I'd really like the chance to get to know ya’ better.”

And despite every neuron of common sense and self-preservation screaming at you to decline the invitation, you gritted your teeth and quickly nodded your assent; swallowing thickly when Rosie bared her teeth in a delighted, feral smile.  

You knew better to say ‘no’ to an Overlord.

[chaosisalwayscrying]

i NEEEEEED a chris or matt x british reader cos there just never is any and i just want. i’ve asked before but they lowkey just kept on saying “it’s chewsday innit” over and over again 😭

LONDON GIRL

⇥ synopsis : matt goes to with his girlfriend to the place she grew up, london

⇥ warnings : none :)!

⇥ extra : ummm i hate this 😝 its been pushed back sm cause of school AND i rewrote it sm cause i hated it. i hope this is good enough 😕 ty for the request anon!!

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

    you and matt had met at an influencer party, after you had just moved in with friends in LA from london. they were big in the influencer scene and decided to drag you out. of course, they ditched you in favor of drinking and flirting with whoever possible, but you weren't interested in even speaking until matt ran into you.

when you turned, it was like love at first sight. he frantically apologized for almost knocking you over, and when you spoke and he heard your accent, he fell harder. your thick accent was so attractive to him, and he was asking for your number before his brain could even process it.

you gave it to him, figuring that nows the time to make new friends.

    and now, a year later, you're in a happy 8-month long relationship. matt was nothing short of amazing, he pampered you and make you feel special every day.

    so, when you decided to go back to london for week to visit, you drag matt, chris, and nick with you too.

    "are you sure its ok we come back to london with you pretty? dont you want to visit family and go around alone?" matt asks, watching you from his place on the bed.

    "i wanna show you all my favorite places matt, and we can explore and shop with your brothers!" you return, a wide grin on your face as you turn to look at him. you were in the middle of packing you and matts clothes in a suitcase.

matts heart swells as you smile at him, before asking for the tenth time if you wanted him to help.

"no it’s ok, i like to pack stuff. plus i wanna organize it. we already set out our outfits so i just have to pack them" you say, turning back to the suitcase and placing a shirt on your side.

"oh! actually, can you go pack the toiletries? i wrote out a list of all the stuff, it should be on the vanity with the bag" you ask, not turning as you hear him get up and shuffle around.

"of course, ill be back" he said, coming up behind you and kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“thank youuu!” you say in a sing-song voice as he walks out, blush burning on your cheeks from his actions.

by the time you had packed you and matts things, it felt as if your whole wardrobe was packed up all over again. when you had gone upstairs to check on chris and nick, nick was sat on top of the suitcase as chris tried to zip it, making you laugh for a good few minutes.

once you stopped laughing at their expense, they practically begged you to help them reorganize and pack, to which you obliged with a smile.

—————

landing in london was like sweet relief, the plane was uncomfortable and there was a lot of turbulence, and you had gotten so dizzy and nauseous at a point you had to lock yourself in the plane bathroom.

the plane rides were brutal, from la to boston, then to london in the same trip was sure to take a toll on anyone, but the triplets had never flown that long before and it was definitely taking its toll. chris could barely order the uber for all of you, and matt almost missed your shared luggage and grabbed someone elses.

    the next few days were chaotic, magical, and felt completely unreal. you and the boys started off your week by exploring some little shops close to the hotel, not wanting to go too far because of the jetlag still wearing off.

    the day after that, you dragged the boys around to all the tourist locations possible. nick and chris were so eager to get cool pictures and film for their channel, that you and matt were able to have nice quiet moments and cute pictures (courtesy of nick and chris).

    when you were near big ben, chris and nick had gone off to an obvious tourist shop to get stupid shirts and whatever else they could find, leaving you and matt on a bridge nearby as the sun began setting.

    "y'know," matt began, turning from the sunset to look in your eyes. "i’m really happy you invited us on this trip. seeing the place you grew up from your perspective and exploring your favorite spots feels so special. i love you" he smiled, leaning in for a kiss right after.

    the kiss was soft and sweet, matt holding your hips as your hands rest on his cheeks. as you part, you hear obnoxious cheers from certain boys a few feet away. you blush furiously as matt turned around with a playful scowl on his lips.

“you guys suck!” he calls, a chuckle breaking his angry facade. he turns back to you and playfully rolls his eyes, though in his head he was hoping his brothers got photos of them in front of the sunset.

“im glad you’re having fun, matty. i was scared you’d hate london” you smile, finally responding to his previous comment. matts expression morphed into disbelief, which made you laugh.

“hate london? i love it here! minus most of the food, but other than that i love it here baby, im so happy you invited us.” he smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips.

you smiled too, happy that he and his brothers were having so much fun in london, a place so beautiful and near to your heart.

ove the next few days, you and the boys explored the city some more, finding cute boutiques and cringey tourist shops alike. all the shopping you did made it hard to repack your bags and fit everything, and you had to get nick and chris to sit on your suitcases to get them shut.

you would say the trip was a success, you got to revisit all your favorite places and make them even more special as you made new memories there.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630

[yuzukult]

untitled teaser | hvc & reader

title: currently untitled pairing: vernon x fem!reader/oc rating: rated m for final fic genre: angst, fluff, smut, wealthy!vernon, unrequited love!au (on both sides, it gets flipped lol... idk it's a confusing one) wc: 10k+ (ongoing) warnings: clubbing, adult themes, oc tries to seduce vernon lol, grinding...... idk just club things a/n: this is what i have been working on instead of actually finishing my own series HAHA i currently don't have a title but if you wanna give me some ideas lemme know ,,,, currently the doc title is "attention"

The burst of blackberry, a tart aroma with hints of bay leaves and cedarwood, has you intoxicated over his cologne alone. His slicked back chestnut brown hair, the calmness he exhibits, and his quiet, mysterious exterior is supposed to make him seem unnoticeable; yet for some reason, he’s always the most attention-grabbing in a room full of people.

Besides his handsome looks, he’s wealthy. The thickness of his bank account doesn’t present itself through his narrow, slim wallet, mostly because he doesn’t showcase the worth of his business unless it’s an obligation. He’s successful, yet remains humble about it; his clothes are made from the luxury brands without it embossed on the outer material, instead the names are stitched inside to keep himself modest. 

His car is the only thing that advertises the amount of digits that his business profits. The fastest, sleekest, and illustrious cars are the ones that he owns—from Corvettes to Teslas to Bentleys—he collects a plethora of them, those three barely denting all the marques, he finds himself indulging in that category and limits it to just that. Fine dining isn’t a necessity, but he does it for ventures required by his company. Expensive hotels and stays are just for comfort, but not something he needs, understanding that it’s more of a want if anything.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is just that guy.

Apart from all of that, Vernon is still an average person—other than the fact that you practically drool over the sight of him and he’s in the 1%. He’s sweet and kind, a general minimum trait that men should have, but he’s also good at overextending himself when people need him to. Last year, he hosted a gala for the Children with Cancer Foundation, earning more than enough donations and then on top of it matching the amount that was donated from others. 

Geez. Even your panties are getting drenched at the thought of him just busting out that fucking power move.

Unfortunately, as much as you boldly put yourself out there, Vernon is unavailable. Emotionally, probably, but mostly because he clearly states that you just… weren’t his type. You’re not a mirror of him; there’s never saccharine words that leave your lips unless it’s to seduce, donating to charities isn’t really on your list of priorities, and to be quite fair, you weren’t much of a charming go-getter as he is either. 

Opposites attract you’d try to justify, but to Vernon, that’s not enough.

Your gripe with Vernon isn’t because he rejected you—it’s that he rejects you but still likes to be… around you. When you’re out on Friday and Saturday nights, your mutual friends lead the group to hang, and when he hears your name included in the list of attendees, he’s there. Even after a long day of dealing with difficult people, you can expect to see Vernon there in his white dress shirt with the first couple buttons unraveled, resting on one of the couches at a table in the VIP lounge, legs parted in his trousers. 

He’s just sitting casually, but he looks like he owns the place.

“You sure you don’t wanna date?” you ask, lips almost brushing against his outer ear as he lets out a soft chuckle and brings his glass of whiskey on ice to his mouth. The music is loud, booming in the speakers of the dim club with strobe lights, making it hard to have any decent conversation but to be honest—who is even trying to talk here when their bodies should be?

“You’re pretty,” he admits, his chocolate swirls of eyes locking with yours. “And—I’m attracted to you. But for dating… you don’t really fit my criteria.” 

Criteria. He says it like he has a checklist for the girl he wants to date. 

Despite constantly hitting on him, you knew your limits for the night. Patting his clothed thigh with your manicured hands, you lean in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Okay, then I’ll leave you for the night. Maybe I’ll try again—but for now, I’m not gonna let today be ruined because Vernon Chwe said ‘no’ to me,” you smirk, pulling down the hem of your dress before standing up. Gesturing to a friend, she excitedly gets up from her seat before shuffling to you. “Let’s go dance!”

Vernon is a liar.

He likes you—a lot. The way you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as if he still can’t see how far your jaw drops when you’re cackling. His favorite view is when you’re just tipsy enough that your hooded eyes become more alluring, cheeks hot from the alcohol, and your words slurring with weighted truths to them. The last time you were drunk, you admitted that you wanted his dick in your mouth. Vulgar but… still honest.

Dating you meant drama—well, dating in general meant drama, and Vernon knows how you are. You’re not labeled a “drama queen” per se, but you are definitely quite the handful. He saw how defensive you got when a random guy at the club turned down your friend Sana because her nose was a little too big; those earrings were unlatched, dropped into Sana’s palms and somehow your shoe was in your hand, ready to swing.

Okay—he concedes. He kind of enjoys seeing you be like that.

Vernon is calm, cool, and collected. With you being the opposite, he’s not sure if being with someone that intense is good for him. You’re not who people expect to stand by his side when he’s at a banquet or when he’s on those business trips—your party lifestyle reminds him of those people who don’t ever settle, live on breaking hearts, and he’s partially afraid he’ll just be another number on your list of another one you’ll hurt. 

Not to mention that he’s not entirely sure that you’re the type of girl his parents would like if they met you.

You’re entertaining, he’ll agree to that, but you're far from someone who could be his more. You’re aggressive, overly outspoken, and worst of all, you do weird things to him.

You’re the cause for his heart stuttering—he almost mistook it for a heart attack—and you’re the reason why he paces back and forth when he accidentally said something that was borderline offensive in the midst of vetoing the chance of ‘us’ yet again, concerned that those harsh words are why you don’t return his texts. Only then, he realizes you’ve napped through the afternoon and didn’t get a chance to check your phone. And even on those really arduous days where his clients tend to be a little more finicky than usual, you still manage to make him laugh and feel the burden lift from his shoulders. How are you able to do those things to him without much of an effort?

Yet, at the same time, you’re also the pounds of stress that replaces the burden. 

Especially at times like these.

There’s a lot of things about you that he likes, but one of the things he doesn’t like is how quick you're on your feet when he turns you down. It barely takes minutes or even seconds after he says ‘you’re not my type’ before you down a couple shots and head to the dance floor with your ass against some other guy’s crotch.

“Oh,” Vernon’s friend, Mingyu, sings in amusement. “She’s dancing with Minghao.”

Vernon furrows his brows. Who the fuck is Minghao? Not all the words that pour in his thoughts spill from his tongue. “Minghao?” 

Mingyu nods, mid sip of his cognac. Cognac isn’t much different from whiskey, as much as people think—the only thing disparate between the two is that cognac derives from grapes and whiskey comes from grains. Vernon just prefers his whiskey over cognac; he can’t actually tell them apart, but he just… favors the one more than the other.

“Yeah, Xu Minghao. Heard he fucks… like well.”

Vernon scoffs. “… He fucks. Like well?”

Mingyu nods, lips pulling into a straight line as he swirls the drink in his hand. The condensation falls, dripping onto the fabric of his jeans but he could care less, especially when his own girlfriend is on the dance floor beside you, who wasn’t Vernon’s own. “Yeah, my girl heard from a couple of her friends that he’s good with his hips.”

With a quirked brow, Vernon licks his teeth. “You sure that it’s not your girlfriend’s experience we’re talking about here?”

Mingyu narrows his gaze. “Don’t play. Just ‘cause the one you’ve been eyeing suddenly captured Minghao’s attention doesn’t mean that you can jab me like that. Least I can commit.”

Puffing up his cheeks, he doesn’t even bother turning to look at Mingyu when he throws his sharp response. Nothing can avert his attention away from you, especially when you’re fixated on Minghao, your hand atop his as his own rests against your hips with your back pressed against his chest. Is this what you’re into? Some guy with blue hair, similar to the label on a Dasani water bottle or marginal Sonic the Hedgehog? 

“I don’t have commitment issues,” he counters through his gritted teeth. When did he clench his jaw so tightly, and why does he feel his fist balling up? You’re not his, after all, and yet he’s acting like you are. 

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

Vernon doesn’t even think. It’s out of character for him—what he often does is plan out his moves before making them. When it came to work or even what he wanted to meal prep for the rest of this week, Vernon always thought things through. Vacation? He’s already got an agenda. Dinner with friends? He’s got reservations at four different restaurants. Just pick one.

But you? You drive him absolutely insane. He can’t predict anything with you, and he doesn’t have a plan on what to do with you. 

Before you know it, he’s on the dance floor—an unfamiliar place for him because Vernon isn’t the type to bust a move even when he’s intoxicated but tonight, he’s a bit offbeat. Maybe he had too much of the whiskey, or maybe he caught some secondhand smoke from the guy taking a puff of a joint but nonetheless, he’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugging you into him.

“What—”

“I don’t like you rubbing up against him.”

Mouth slightly agape, you step back from him. “Okay, and? You're not my boyfriend.”

He sucks in his cheeks irritably. He knew rejecting you would eventually bite him in the ass. “I just don’t like it.”

“You don’t get to tell me what you like and don’t like,” you retort, rolling your eyes before pushing your hair back. “Now if you would excuse me, I’m going back to Minghao.” But before you could get away, Vernon pulls you back. The impact of your cheek against his chest is a harsh one—but not… a bad one.

It… kind of turns you on? 

But you’re not gonna let him know that.

He exhales out a deep breath. “Okay, then fine. Be my girlfriend.”

You choke on your spit. 

“Wh-What?”

ok the end lets hope i finish this one and that it's a banger

[sanjisblackasswife]

DON'T tell me you too hc Shanks as the shameless pervert??!! Like the type that's very comfortable with sex and very experienced DILF lmao 😭

Corruption kink?? I thought it was obvious 🙄

That guy could talk about the nastiest kink the same way he talks about the groceries 😩 "...and then she nearly passed out! Haha, I think it's cuz she had all her holes-" "SHANKS-!! OMG- YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT-!!" but you low-key love it when he does

😭😭😩😩

A/N: YKW…. if you don’t mind imma use your amazing response to blast Shanks kinks because why not Ahahah

Shanks Kinks/What Turns Him On (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: KINKS, It’s Pretty Short General List, I Believe He Has More, But These Scream “Shanks”💀

Kinks:

Corruption Kink: He will swear up and down that he doesn’t have one of you tell him, corruption? Absolutely not he loves women he would never—

Shanks loves seeing a pretty innocent thing like yourself not having a clue in the world how to please a man. He can get off on the thought alone of how embarrassed you’d be learning about taking his cock and not knowing how to handle it and so after one night of partying and charming he starts you off by having you face the mirror in his room, air making your nipples erect and naked on his clothed lap. “There you go…ah ah keep looking in the mirror for me.” He guides your hand to rub your clit teaching you how to touch yourself, “It’s okay you can cum…” You whine and grind your hips on his and your own hand. It won’t be long until he shows you how to properly use your mouth. Knowing he took something so important and sacred is a form of ownership that he gets riled up of feeling.

Exhibitionism: Shanks has little to any care about the consequences of ignorant decisions. He could care less.

He totally doesn’t mind a show as long as said person doesn’t get too close. There are plenty of times Shanks didn’t have time to take a woman back to the ship or the hotel and just did a quickie in a bar hallway or an alleyway. Ironically he still haven’t been caught.

Dirty Talk: If he is feeling sweet he will describe what he is going to do to you, but if he is feeling like a little brat he won’t be above making you describe to him what you want him to do—

“Yeah? And then what?” You’ve been on the edge for what seems hours with his fingers and tongue switching places in your aching cunt. Your legs were embarrassingly spread open because he tied them up at the end of the bed posts. He constantly swirlied the tip of his wet muscle on your clit, driving you mad, you could have just grabbed his head to shove his entire mouth inside you, but you knew better than to disobey Shanks. “Then….I—ah! Want you…” “Want me to what, darling? Hold you? Feed you?—“ “Fuck me, Shanks! I want you to fuck me with you cock please!!”

Breeding: I mean is this even—-hello..he’s a certified dilf.

Ironically he does try to practice safe sex when he used to screw random women on the grand line, but Shanks has no problem with fucking the woman he loves raw. When he is close your body is pulled in even closer, he’ll be damned if any of his seed is wasted. His arm pushes your pelvis higher into his, this is usually when he starts to make more noise grunts and cursing in your ear. He wants you to cum with him because the feeling of how you clench still sucking him and his cum in makes his mind go numb. Sometimes if any does drip out he’ll scoop it and finger it back in you regardless of the painful overstimulation. Because he hates to waste.

What Turns Him On:

Walking around naked: I mean it’s pretty obvious pretty much any man loves to see their woman naked, but when he is greeted with you in nothing, but your ass as you bend over the bed to grab something, he won’t think twice to fuck you right there with his cock out of his pants, too eager to get completely nude.

Teasing Him: He is the master at making you flustered. Even though it’s damn near impossible to make him blush even when he’s drunk, It’s just something about when you feel bold enough to say something back at him or even whisper in his ear how badly you need him that really perks up an honest smile and an honest hard on.

The Way You Moan His Name: He cannot get enough of it. It’s so soft, and breathless sometimes while he is in missionary with you he will groan in your ear “Say my name.” Repeatedly Sometimes you can use it to tease him in public to rile him up. Fair warning though, if he is in a slightly annoyed mood you’ll pay for it later.