#the rest of the song is good too and fits her as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 8 months ago

Note

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don��t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

2K notes · View notes

gwendolynnderolo · 2 months ago

Text

critical role ships as hozier songs

vax / keyleth : francesca

percy / vex : work song

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

fjord / jester : nobody

beau / yasha : as it was

caleb / essek : from eden

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

orym / dorian : like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

specific lyrics that i feel like represent the pairings under the cut!

vax / keyleth : francesca

how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?

my life was a storm, since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?

if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i'd go through it again

it was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away

i would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i

percy / vex : work song

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

and i was burning up a fever, i didn't care much how long i lived

but i swear, i thought i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong i did

if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

in the low lamplight, i was free, heaven and hell were words to me

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

she moved with shameless wonder, the perfect creature rarely seen

her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me

wondering who i copy, mustering some tender charm

breaking if i try conveying, the broken love i make to her

fjord / jester : nobody

i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

but i've had no love like your love from nobody

if i had the choice between hearing either noise, the excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice

and on the other side, why should we deny the truth? we could have less to worry about, honey, i won't lie to you

beau / yasha : as it was

and in a few days i will be there, love, whatever here that's left of me is yours, just as it was

the lights were as bright as my baby, but your love was unmoved

tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me and how long i've been away

the shape that i'm in now, your shape in the doorway, make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day

and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too

caleb / essek : from eden

there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?

honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, i should know

there's something broken about this, but i might be hoping about this

a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

give your heart and soul to charity, cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey, belongs to me

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?

if i was born as a blackthorn tree, i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

ain't it the life of you, your lightning of the blaze?

orym / dorian : like real people do

i will not ask you where you came from, i will not ask and neither should you

i know that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago

honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

i knew well from our first hookup, the look of mischief in your eyes

your friends are a fate that befell me, hell is the talking type, i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight

honey, i laugh when it sinks in, a pillar i am, upright

now that the evening is slowing, now that the end's in sight, honey, it's easier knowing what you'd do to me tonight

oh, let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised and that kind of love

408 notes · View notes

homestylehughes · 4 months ago

Text

bed chem.

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.

wc: 1.5K

an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)

as always, much much love <3

He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him.

He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good.

“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream

“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you.

“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you

“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic

“Nope,” she says, popping the p.

“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically

“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys.

“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you

“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer.

Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends.

“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble.

“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction.

“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm

Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends.

“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you”

“I don't even know if i'll see him again”

“Never say never.”

You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor.

“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor.

–

After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face.

Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away.

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes.

“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.

“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator.

“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator.

“And you're the guy” you say

“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes.

“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues

“I saw” you spoke

“Almost had you too” he says

“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes.

“Well we’re here now” he replies

“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off

“Quinn. My names quinn” he says

“Yn. my names yn”

“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.

The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.

You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly.

Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you.

“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper

“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator.

“Mhm” you mumble to him

“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move.

You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need.

Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch.

“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door”

“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body.

“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks

“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key.

“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear.

Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open.

Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other.

“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips

“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt.

“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you

“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders.

Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #qh43 #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #vancover canucks #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic

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jibunbosh · 8 months ago

Text

Mesmerizer is a satire of TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and the rest of the modern short-form vertical video format

A brief thematic analysis.

I'm sure there are countless people already interpreting the imagery and details in this wonderful song & MV, like here and here, so I won't spend too much time retreading that ground. Miku and Teto are dancing. Miku gets hypnotized. Teto signals for help, but gets hypnotized at the end as well.

That part is obvious enough, but that's still pretty surface-level. What is this seemingly hyperspatial horror scenario supposed to mean to us?

While checking to see if anyone before me's already come to the same conclusions as I did and if I should bother not writing this text post at all (lol), I came across udin's great analysis video. She comes to the conclusion that the song tackles themes of disillusionment with reality and the ways we indulge in escapism to relieve ourselves of the pains of the world.

I agree with that reading! From practically the very beginning, we have Miku call to us - the viewer - to push away our true feelings. Teto comes in to peddle a solution, inviting us to surrender and empty our minds - in her words, "pretending to know nothing."

You, the viewer, are a critical character in this masquerade. For nearly the entire video, Miku and Teto's eyes are unfailingly trained on you. Or, well... perhaps they can't actually see you, but they can see a camera, or whatever other aperture the point of view is supposed to be from. And they know they're being watched. (Who else would Teto be sending distress signals to?)

Let's put a pin on that for later.

udin notes very early on that Miku and Teto are, conspicuously, kept in vertical frames - very similar to the video formats of TikTok (and Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts, and whatever other clones of the format exist.) You know, just like the animator Caststation's Rabbit Hole fan MV that went viral some months ago.

Hey wouldn't it be crazy if the song's producer, 32ki, released Mesmerizer shorts too haha. Wouldn't that be crazy.

Wow, wild.

These short-term vertical videos are captivating & alluring. If you're reading this, it's more likely than not that you've also found yourself caught up in them at least once, scrolling through the infinite algorithmic slurry and forgetting about the real-life issues you have at hand. Would you say, then, that you felt hypnotized? Mesmerized, even?

And so these two invite us to join their world and focus on the... uh... rectangle.

Their dances are repetitive, following the same loop. Their outfits are distinct, but their choreography isn't. They're copying the same formula, repeating it ad nauseam to the best of their ability.

They're doing a fucking TikTok dance.

Back to the pin I told you about earlier, with Miku and Teto looking at a camera.

Miku sways with the camera, eyes looking directly at it like a swinging pocket watch. She's been looking at it the entire time, after all. We've been seeing her via our screen this entire time, but, again, she doesn't necessarily see us. She's beholden to the camera, which she dances for day after day, caught up in its spell. She's hypnotized by it. Eventually, she breaks.

Teto, on the other hand, resists. For a while, anyway.

Despite her being the one jumping to us with the "solution" at the beginning of the MV, there's very quickly good reason to question how much agency she has in this. She dances for the camera as well, but she doesn't want to. She's signalling for help. She wants out.

Many content creators (as much as I personally loathe the non-specificity and soullessness of the term) have struggled with the adaptation to the short-form video format, and the preference the algorithm has had for these captivating, bite-sized videos. They're catchy, and easily drive up metrics. Practically anyone who's publishing their work via video format online needs to learn to adapt or fall behind, even if that means whittling their content down to fit the frame, the time, and people's shortening attention spans. Sometimes, that means compromising on specificity and completeness... or, in other words, the true representation of a full work.

The song's writer, 32ki, has been releasing songs on YouTube for several years. Their first YouTube Short, however, was posted only a year ago: a short, whittled-down segment of their previous song, CIRCUS PANIC!!!, hoping for it to win the ProsekaNEXT song contest. It was their first song to achieve widespread popularity and hit a million views.

The shorts, however, aren't the "true" versions of the song. The full song just won't fit.

We're being mesmerized as consumers of this endless stream of content, rather than appreciators of music and art. However, that relationship isn't completely symmetrical across the plane that is the 4th wall. Miku and Teto are trapped not by their attention spans, but by a compulsion to project their "truthful acting" and peddle that window into a colorful, problem-free world.

We, as the collective audience, need not dwell on any one thing for too long - we need only swipe, and move on to the next video. However, Miku and Teto are trapped behind the screen for eternity, day after day.

They're the only characters we get to see, of course. There's no evil 3rd voice synth character that's plotting to keep them trapped in there. We can't put a face to whatever force is hypnotizing them and trapping them behind the screen. It's faceless - like the inscrutable algorithms of YouTube recommendations or the TikTok For You page, or the impersonal corporations that develop & maintain those aforementioned apps. Miku and Teto's likenesses, on the other hand, are being exploited and extracted from for their entertainment value, being strung along by that metaphorical hypnotizing force like puppets on a string.

Many people, represented by Miku, enjoy their success on such platforms. It's freeing and liberating to throw oneself wholeheartedly into such an endeavor, of course! Others, represented by Teto, harbor their doubts of the emotional veracity of such a medium, but know they have little choice lest they face destruction... perhaps not literally as a person, but as an idea.

Wouldn't it be easier just to let oneself be swept away by it and give in?

#mesmerizer #analysis #kasane teto #hatsune miku #vocaloid #rambles #text poast

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besottedbyher · 14 days ago

Text

Hike and Dip

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Description: Emily decides to take you on a relaxing hike to a secluded lake.

Warnings: mostly just some fluffy smut, very cutesy. Porn with plot and lots of feelings, with a hint of exhibitionism.

Word count: 7.4k

Available on AO3

…

You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement you felt when you received a text from Emily this morning at the crack of dawn. The sun hadn’t even fully risen but Emily knew you were already awake.

Up for a hike?

And of course you immediately responded.

With you? duhhh.

You’d never pass up on an opportunity to spend time with Emily, especially with the work schedule she has.

Sometimes it takes weeks before you see her in person again. But once you do, it’s always magical.

Oftentimes, she’d call in to check on you, sometimes she’d even request a video call.

“I’ve missed your face” she would say, in that all too charming way she does. And you would blush and say that you’ve missed hers too.

Emily always says time is precious in her line of work, and that she ought to make the most of it.

And what could be better than going on an adventure with your best friend?

And so, that’s how you ended up sliding into the passenger seat of her car at seven-thirty in the morning, warm coffees and travel backpack in hand.

The early morning drive to the start of the trail is utterly peaceful. Brisk summer air wisping through the cracked windows, pine and Emily’s sweet scent filling your senses.

God, she always smells so good, so simple yet so… Emily.

Your sock-clad feet are kicked up on the dash, seat reclined, as your fingers tap to the beat of the old song on the radio. Emily’s head rests on her hand that is propped up on the door, bangs ruffling with the breeze, and a content smile on her lips as she hums quietly.

The comfortable silence is nothing new, especially for this early in the day. Though, you and Emily can talk about nothing and everything, from the state of the political climate to your favorite movies or snacks.

But for now, silence is perfect. Just being in the presence of Emily Prentiss is a gift within itself.

You’ve always had a crush on her, ever since the day you met all that while ago. But you’d never acknowledge that out loud. Well at least to her.

She is the most easy-to-love human you’ve ever met. So effortlessly beautiful, and so very smart. Just listening to her talk about all the brilliant things she holds in that big, intricate brain of hers makes you fall more and more in love with her.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Emily’s hand tap your thigh, immediately turning your attention to her.

“We’re almost there, you did bring that bathing suit, right?” She smiles, raising a questioning brow.

“Yes, I did.” You nodded, pulling your shirt collar over your shoulder with a sarcastic sexy pout, exposing the black string of your bikini, tied behind your neck.

Emily laughs, scrunching her nose and turning back towards the road, you smile at the dimple on her cheek.

…

Once Emily pulls into a spot near the head of the trail you each quickly down the last bit of your coffees, slinging your backpacks onto your shoulders in near perfect sync.

Emily raises her wrist, glancing at her upside down watch.

“Sources say, if we start now, it’s an easy hour and a half hike, so we should reach the water by about ten... Sources also say that’s the best time to get there.” She squints up at you with an adorable grin, placing her sunglasses atop her head.

“Sounds good to me, I’m so excited.” You step towards her, bumping your hip against hers before stepping off in the directing of the path.

You hear Emily chuckle from behind, her footsteps soon following, the dirt and gravel crunching beneath her combat boots.

Now that you were both standing, you take the time to appreciate her hiking attire.

Her torso is adorned in a fitted black long-sleeved shirt, perfectly accentuating her slim waist and broad shoulders. On her legs, a pair of khaki cargo shorts that stopped a few inches above her mid thigh.

And God, do you love those legs.

Especially when she walks ahead of you on the trail, the toned muscles of her calves flexing with each step. Not to mention, how well those shorts fit her ass.

“You good?” Emily questions, turning around and walking backwards to face you.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, looking up at her.

“Yeah, perfect!” You smile at her.

Emily stops for a moment, waiting for you to walk next to her. She hooks her arm over your shoulder, pulling you tight against her side.

“I’m glad you came, I’ve missed you.” she tilts her head, glancing down at your face sweetly and squeezing your shoulder.

Your heart flutters, the closeness of your faces and the sincerity of her words tugging at its strings.

“I’ve missed you too, Emily. I’d never pass up spending time with you. I’d literally ditch my dream concert just to go sit on a couch with you or something.” You wrap an arm around her waist, rubbing your thumb over her ribs absentmindedly, and steps, wobbling as you’re both pulled a bit off balance.

“I’d probably be m the one taking you to the concert in the first place.” She chuckles.

You dip your gaze, smiling at the ground and shaking your head.

The pair of you walk like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, stepping in sync.

Eventually, Emily pulls away, only to take your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. Your chest flutters again as you look down at the scene. It wasn’t unusual for Emily to be touchy, she always was in your presence.

But it still made you feel special.

She is special.

…

The hike goes by fairly quickly, the perfect weather and Emily’s company making it easy.

You’re almost fifteen minutes from the end of the trail when Emily’s hand pulls away and she comes to an abrupt stop.

You pout at the loss of contact, but when you look up your anguish immediately washes away.

Emily’s bag has been placed on the ground at her feet, and her hands are gripping the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head.

Your breath catches in your throat as she reveals her toned stomach and ample chest, clad in an indy-style Nike sports bra.

“Sorry, just getting a bit warm for the long sleeve.” Emily giggled, scrunching up the discarded shirt and dabbing the sweat from her gleaming breasts.

“No worries, it’s definitely getting warmer out.” You answered quickly, whipping your head around to hide your flushed cheeks.

It wasn’t like you had never seen Emily in a revealing outfit before, you’ve practically seen the woman naked… but there’s always just something so intimidating, and intimate about looking at her that way.

Like it isn’t something you’re supposed to have the privilege of seeing, like you’re unworthy.

You’ve been with plenty of women in your lifetime, enough, at least, that you can act in confidence when it comes to sex and bodies. But looking at them was never as intimidating as it was with Emily.

Emily is like a holy being. A goddess in the flesh.

And you had a certain fear, that if you ever looked or touched in the wrong way, you’d never get the chance to be close with her again.

So you didn’t.

But damn, was it hard not to. She was perfect in every way. In every flaw. There isn’t a single thing about Emily that wouldn’t be considered beautiful. She was simply as put, created by God’s finest sculptors, with the finest marble.

“Yknow, you don’t have to turn away? It’s not like I never checked you out before.” She scoffed, and you turned back towards her at lightning speed.

“What?” Your eyes, wide with shock and confusion.

“You heard me.” Emily shot you a wink, slapping your ass as she picks up her bag and starts down the path again.

You just stand there, mouth agape and staring at the back of her head as she walks.

“You gonna stand there or are we gonna finish this hike so we can swim?” She raises a questioning brow.

“I’m comin, I’m comin…” You shake your head, puffing out a laugh in disbelief.

Emily beams, waiting for you to catch up once again before placing her forearm on your shoulder, walking with you.

…

With a dramatic sigh, Emily tosses her backpack to the ground.

The pair of you have finally reached the end of the trail arriving at the beautiful springs you’d came for in the first place.

The area is more incredible than the pictures google provided you with. The water is almost crystalline, and the banks are engulfed in the most beautiful wildflowers and grasses. On one far side, a few wooden benches sit, shaded under a giant willow tree. On the other side, a gentle waterfall trickles, a dull rainbow shining in the spray of it.

“Wow…” you set your bag down next to Emily’s, placing your hands on your hips and taking it all in.

“Yeah… this is definitely worth the drive that was longer than the hike, HA!” Emily guffawed, turning towards you and smiling brightly. You laugh back at her.

Taking your vintage camera out from the bag, you uncover and adjust the lense before snapping a few photos of the scenery.

Panning the camera over a bit, Emily’s stripping body suddenly appears in the viewfinder, causing you to nearly drop the expensive equipment.

“What are you doing?” You ask, lowering the camera from your eye.

“Uh, going for a swim, duh? I need to rid myself of this sweat ASAP!” Emily exasperated, kicking off her shoes and socks before unbuckling her belt.

“Right…” you trail off, watching in silence as Emily let her shorts fall from her hips, revealing a pair of cheeky black swim bottoms.

“Jesus…” you whisper quietly to yourself before turning your focus back to the camera.

You snap a couple more photos of the scenery, but Emily’s body making it’s way down to the water seems to peak your interest more. You adjust the lense once again, focusing it on her perfectly, snapping a couple photos of her back as she begins wading into the water.

Emily shuffles in to about her hips before she reaches up to pull her hair from the ponytail she’s had in, shaking it out and spinning around to look at you.

“Are you taking pictures of me!?” She yells, smiling and hunched forward. She raises a hand to her forehead in attempts to block the sunlight, adorably.

“No!” You grin, lifting the camera again and capturing her beaming face.

That one will have to be printed a few times, you think.

“How about you put that camera down and come swim with me? The water feels so nice!” Emily lets herself fall backwards, slipping under with a splash.

You laugh to yourself as you put the camera back in the bag and stripping yourself of your clothes.

Swimming up to the grassy bank, Emily folds her arms and leans against it, watching as you pull your shirt over your head.

When you turn around to walk towards the water, you notice Emily’s eyes on your body… or rather, your exposed breasts.

“Eyes up here, Prentiss.” You call out, jokingly. Emily’s eyes immediately meet yours, with a smile of course.

“That bikini is really cute on you. Fits very well.” She lowers her eyes again, making an indescribable face before looking back up.

“Oh why thank you, so does yours.” Your voice is almost a hum.

You dip a toe in the water before stepping in fully, arms splaying out for balance as a few rocks that have settled on the silty floor dig into the sole of your foot.

Emily reaches up, signaling for you to take her hand. You grip her palm as you step deeper.

Her other hand reaches up as well, wrapping around your waist. But before you know it, Emily is dragging you down into the water and the full weight of your body is landing over hers, consequently submerging both of you.

When you resurface, Emily is practically cackling. Her drenched hair falling over her face like a scene kid in 2004.

“Oh, you’re in for it…” you scowl, shoving over to her and wrapping your arms around her neck, forcing her under in a choke hold.

Emily's strong hands grip at your wrists, pulling them from her skin and freeing herself enough to raise back up, sucking in a deep breath once she breaks the surface. Slicking back her bangs and wiping the water from her eyes before shoving a wave of water at you.

You’re both bursting with laughter and red in the face when you begin to settle. Wading a bit deeper in the water and crouching down, allowing it to enclose around your necks.

Emily sinks herself lower, the water covering her mouth. She blows bubbles as she swims over to you, slowly. Circling behind you and wrapping her arms around your shoulders, she settles against your back and rests her chin in the crook of your neck.

You raise your hands up to her forearms, brushing the pads of your thumbs over her water-beaded skin. You lean into Emily's warmth, soaking up the contact.

The air smells of wildflowers and Emily’s shampoo, and her body blazing in contrast to the cool water of the spring. You can hear the birds chirping, beetles buzzing, and Emily’s slow breathing against your ear.

Taking her hand in yours, you pull it to your face, pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckles before pressing it against your cheek. Emily hums in response and the vibrations send a chill down your spine.

You feel her legs lift and begin wrapping around your middle, her ankles tickling at your inner thighs. You suck in a slow breath, the sensation pulling a twinge from your stomach.

“Clingy today, hm?” You gently speak, running your other hand over her shin, massaging the bone like you've done a million times before.

“Mm, jus’ missed you.” She mumbles, her face squished against your neck and her own bicep. You giggle at the adorable action, tilting your head so that it bumps against hers.

Emily tilts down, pressing a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and another directly behind your ear. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, capturing the moan that's nearly released and swallowing it back down.

“Don't do that.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, you squeeze at her knee that’s sitting at your hips.

“Why? Ticklish?” Emily places a few more teasing kisses to the flesh before you tilt your head sharply, nearly crushing her there.

“No, it's just a… y’know… sensitive spot.” You admit shyly, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

You can feel Emily smiling against your neck, heart pounding as her hand slides up to trace along your chin. She presses up slightly with a knuckle, urging your head to fall backwards.

“Em, what are you do-” you’re cut off by the press of her lips, soft and wet, just below your pulse point.

Your eyes fall closed and your body goes limp at the contact. But when she pulls back, you instantly shoot out of her grasp, spinning around to face her with a shocked expression.

“I- Emily…” you’re at a loss for words as she wades in front of you.

“Did you… like that?” Emily asks, smiling to herself.

Yes. Please do it again. You want to say, but the words are stuck in your throat. Nothing but strangled air comes out as you try to formulate a proper response.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Her eyes flutter over your face, brown irises glittering not only with the reflection of the water and sun, but something else, something deeper. And it makes your chest ache.

Suddenly, Emily’s moving closer, her eyes flitting between your mouth and eyes, searching for an answer.

All you could do is nod and stare like an idiot as her eyes meet yours one last time before she leans in, lips brushing over yours but not fully kissing.

the moment long pause has your chest pounding. You wonder if she could feel it through your skin. With every ounce of strength you could muster, you press against her, taking the kiss you so desperately wanted. Needed.

Emily kisses you back almost instantly. One hand rises up to cup your jaw, while the other wraps around your waist, pulling your belly into her.

Your hand rakes through her hair before tangling in her nape, tugging it gently gently enough for her head to tilt, allowing you to deepen the kiss. Running your tongue over her bottom lip, she opens up with ease and you slip inside, curling against her teeth. Emily squeezes at your waist, sliding her hand up and around your back, coming to rest against the string of your bikini.

You kick off the ground and wrap your legs around Emily’s thighs, tucking your overlapped ankles below her butt, urging her hips forward.

She groans as you tug gently at her scalp, pulling eachother impossibly closer.

Her nails scratch softly at your upper back, breasts pressing against your own, and it’s absolutely and addictively delicious.

You pull away slowly, lips disconnecting with a chaste noise. When you finally open your eyes, Emily is already staring back at you. Pupils blown, making her already dark eyes even darker.

“Was that okay?” You ask, bashfully.

“I’ve been dying to do that for so long…” Emily admits in a near whisper, pressing her forehead against yours and letting out a breath.

“Really?” You look up at her with a glint of optimism and excitement in your eyes, fingers raking through her hair and down her jaw, cupping it.

“Yes.” Emily pants out, her hand cupping the back of your head while the other tightens around your back.

You lean in and press a tender kiss to her lips, breathing in. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, inevitably breaking away and pulling her into a tight hug, spinning your bodies around in the water.

Emily giggles against your neck at the ridiculous silliness of it, holding you close as she spins on her feet.

She places a few tiny pecks over your shoulder and collarbone, then up your neck and over your jaw and cheek. You lean back, looking at her face with a glowy expression, cheeks burning from the grin that has yet to let up.

“You’re adorable, Yknow?” Emily tilts her head, your elbows moving up to rest over her shoulders.

“I’m nothing compared to you.” You twirl a thick strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear.

“You’re also like… really sexy.” The agent mumbles out, cheekily. Tilting her chin up at you with a cocky grin.

“Oh, really!?” You raise a questioning brow. Emily flushes, her cheeks growing red from how hard she’s smiling.

“Ohhhh yeeaahh... It’s so hard keeping my eyes off of you sometimes. Don’t even get me started!” She exaggerates, scoffing and rolling her eyes. Her fingernails brush over your lower back.

“Well now I’m interested so… do tell me more.” You smirk, scratching your nails over the back of her neck. Emily lets out a soft hum, closing her eyes and leaning into the touch.

“Hmm, well first of all, you're incredibly beautiful, smart, and hysterically funny. You never fail to make me almost pee my pants.” She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your arm. “you also have this amazing body. So perfect.. those legs, those tits, that ass?!… oh boy.” Emily shakes her head, blowing raspberries. You laugh.

“And what else?” You lick your lips, catching the way Emily’s eyes fall to your mouth at the gesture.

“I also find the care you have for me to be incredibly sexy. The way you check in, the way you always do little things for me…” She brushes a few stray hairs from your face. “I love that you just want to be with me, near me, no matter the circumstance.” She smiles, looking down at the space between you.

“I know that we only get so much time to see each other when I finally get a break from work…” she pauses. “But, I think that… if you and I were to give this a go…” her eyes meet yours. “It would be the most thrilling and extraordinary time of my life.”

You swear you can see tears in Emily's eyes, but it might just be the reflection of the water.

“Oh, Emily…” you're practically at a loss for words. Never in your life have you felt a yearning quite like this, so powerful and so reciprocated.

“I would love nothing more than to be with you.” You finally manage to strangle out, cupping her cheeks gently and choking down the sob that threatens to spill from your throat.

Emily lets out the deep sigh she’d been holding in, her cool breath fanning across your face.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment, warm bodies pressed together, irises searching irises for feeling hidden within the colors.

Her gaze falls to your lips once again, and you lean in, connecting with a deep kiss.

It’s slow at first, sweet and gentle, hands caressing softly at damp skin. But Emily soon deepens it, tilting her head and letting her tongue slide over your parted lips before dipping inside.

You hum as your tongues curl against each other in a slow, steady rhythm, dancing together in tandem with a certain passion. One of your hands that rested on Emily’s jaw slides down towards her shoulder, resting over the dip of her collarbone.

Meanwhile, Emily’s hands slide over your back, one hand coming to rest over the curve of your hip, the other wrapping around the back of your neck, squeezing it lightly. You can’t help the small squeak that leaves your throat.

Your legs that are still wrapped around her hips, squeeze tighter, pulling her in close. Bodies rolling with the motion of the kisses.

Your heart pounds inside your chest cavity as if you’ve just run a marathon, exhilaration pumping through your veins.

Emily’s slippery mouth slides against yours with ease, her teeth scraping over your bottom lip gently before nipping at it. Pulling gently before letting it pop back to its normal position.

Her eyes are practically boring into your own, the brown of her irises shifting to nearly black.

“Touch me.” Your voice is a mere whisper

“I am touching you.” leaning in again, Emily presses feather-light kisses over your cheeks, her palms brushing over the bare skin of your back.

“No, Emily… touch me.” Your head falls against her shoulder, mouth pressing against the curve of her neck. “Please…”

You feel her puff out a breath, her grip tightening as she presses her mouth against your shoulder. She opens, grazing her teeth over your collarbone before sinking into it.

You let out a gasp, nails digging into her pale flesh.

“Are you sure? Here? Now?” There’s a questioning tone in her voice, soft and unsure.

“I don’t wanna wait any longer, Emily.” You pull back to look at her face, brows furrowed, her sweet, doe-eyes searching for any hint of hesitance.

“We’re too far from home anyway… wouldn’t even be able to lock the car doors before I jump your bones.” You murmur against her parted lips with a smile, Emily chuckles.

She pulls you in by the back of your head and kisses you deeply, opening her mouth for you to explore. The kiss feels different from the ones prior. There’s a hunger now, she craves the feeling of your mouth, chases it.

Emily’s hands are strong, her long fingers gripping you with want, pushing…pulling, but still gentle.

You bring a hand to the front of her rib cage, running your fingers over the hem of her bra, dipping just beneath the elastic before slipping out.

Emily twitches, her breath shaky as she tries to keep tempo with the kisses.

Her fingernails run up and down your spine, tracing the individual vertebrae as she goes before finally setting over the string of your bikini top. Her index pokes through the loop of the tie, pulling it and letting it fall loose but not completely off.

You smile against her when you feel the straps loosen, the weight of your breasts pulling it down slightly with the loss of tension.

“Is that okay?” Emily whispers, her hand coming to your front, running over your chest.

“Yes.” Your voice is breathy, you cover her hand with yours, dragging it over your breast, squeezing it. Emily’s breath shakes and you let out a soft sigh.

Uncovering her hand, you place your own on the side of her face, bringing her lips back to yours.

Emily’s hands get used to traveling on their own, running over the expanse of your chest before pressing up against the underside of your breasts, cupping them. Your nipples harden beneath the fabric of your top and her thumbs move to brush over them.

You whimper faintly, your body arching into her touch, hips shuttering into a slow, grinding rhythm.

The sounds of your lips smacking together begins to grow louder, and so do the faint hums and moans released against each others mouths.

With every touch, Emily ignites another fire beneath your skin, turning you into a prickling mess of pure need, wanting nothing more than to be taken and ravished by the older brunette.

She slides her hands towards your neck, looping her fingers around the loose strings of your top and tugging them gently, letting them fall.

A surge of goosebumps covers your skin as the cool air comes in contact with your now bare chest, nipples pebbling to hard peaks.

Emily’s hands slide back down to your breasts, running her fingers over your nipples, taking them between her index and middle fingers, pinching softly.

A whimper escapes past your lips as she tweaks the sensitive buds. She smiles against you, taking your lip between her teeth.

“You sound so pretty… I could get used to that.” She pinches a little harder, you shudder.

Her hands slip from your breasts and down to your waist, pressing her thumbs along the muscle of your abdomen before slipping lower to squeeze your ass.

You moan as she pulls your hips hard against her, rolling your body over her leg.

Your head falls down to her neck with a groan at the pressure of her toned leg on your center. You let your mouth fall open, alternating between biting and kissing the soft skin.

Emily runs a hand over your thigh, while the other remains on your ass. Her blunt nails scratch up the sensitive skin, your abdomen fluttering as she reaches the apex. Tracing the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“Look at me, baby.” Emily’s voice is soft, you pull away from her neck, meeting her eyes. Amber glitters in the darkness, the reflection of the water, rippling within the vastness of her pupils.

She smiles, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I wanna see your face.” Her thumb digs into your hip bone, pulling a mewl from your lips, eyes struggling to remain on hers.

“You’re gonna kill me…” you chuckle breathlessly, shaking your head as you attempt to find some semblance of relief, grinding slowly against her thigh.

“You’re already killing me..” Emily sighs out, her hands gripping your ass once again.

You shift your knee between her legs next, pressing up on your toes. She bites her lip to stifle the little noise that nearly squeaked out. You giggle to yourself at the reaction you’ve elicited.

Emily brings you in for another kiss. It’s wet and sloppy, and you can’t help but moan into it.

Her fingers resume their travels over the expanse of your thigh, sliding underneath, and scratching up the back of it before pushing your body just a bit further away. You whine, but her intentions become crystal clear as you feel the tip of her finger tracing the crotch of your bottoms.

“Oh-” your body trembles, immediately trying to find more contact with her hand.

Emily kisses down your throat, sucking faint bruises into the skin. Perhaps as a piece of remembrance for when she has to leave again. But you don’t want to think about that right now. All that’s on your mind is getting Emily’s handsome fingers inside of you as soon as humanly possible.

“Please, Em…” you hold on to her tight, panting against the shell of her ear.

She’s driving you crazy, and she knows it.

“Please touch me..” you place a kiss just below her ear, then nip at her lobe.

“You know I can’t say no to that.” Emily murmurs, her fingers finally slipping your bottoms to the side, and cupping your slippery sex.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan at the new contact. The pads of her fingers are velvety soft as she toys with your aching pussy. Running through your slit, collecting the sticky arousal before pressing down on your swollen clit. You throb against her, nails clawing into her neck.

“Oh fu- Emily… that’s good.” You whimper with almost each breath you exhale, the pleasure building at rapid speeds. It is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

But then again, it’s Emily.

Not just some meaningless hookup that you met at a bar, or an old ex that you decided was a good enough fuck to let stick around.

You are in love with Emily. Madly in love.

Emily makes you feel things you’ve never felt before with a partner, even when you were just friends.

And she is certainly making you feel things right now. Her agile fingers teasing at your entrance… spreading the mess she’s made of you over her length before sinking two digits inside, and pulling out to repeat the process over again.

With each stroke of her fingers inside of you, you can feel the coil growing within. Threatening to burst like a giant dam with a crack in its cement.

“You feel so good, baby.” Emily kisses the side of your face, pressing her fingers inside of you at the same time. The praise mixed with her pumping fingers elicits an almost sinful moan from your gut.

Your pelvis grinds eagerly on her flexed hand, the movements becoming aggressive enough that the water has become to splash around the pair of you.

Emily pulls out all the way and slips a third finger into the bunch, curling deep within and stretching you out deliciously.

“fuck..” you press your lips to hers with firey passion, your body sliding up and down against Emily’s. The feeling of your bare chest rubbing over her clothed one is almost agonizing.

Emily’s mouth begins kissing down your neck once again, leaving little marks all the way to your chest. She runs her tongue over your breasts, lapping up the sweat and beads of water that still sit on your skin.

She cranes her neck down further, holding your waist steady as you lean back to accommodate her. She takes a nipple into her mouth, circling her tongue over it before biting down gently, pulling away with a scrape of her teeth.

Your fingers tangle into her wet hair, holding her head as she moves to the other side and does the same.

It’s all becoming too much. You are approaching the edge so fast you don't know what to do with yourself. Emily is so gentle, but subtly rough at the same time. Taking what she wants but with such gentle care, like you were a fragile jewel she was scared of cracking.

“Em, oh- I’m close…” you whined, hips tilting forwards and grinding down against her palm, chasing that friction on your clit that would push you right over.

“You gonna let go for me, pretty girl.” She kisses back up your neck, pulling away to watch your ecstasy ridden face crinkle as the tension starts to burst within your gut.

"Yes..." With a sharp inhale and a not-so-faint shudder, a jolt of electricity shoots through you. Emily pulls your body close to hers, holding you as your legs tremble and clench around her as the intense shocks of your orgasm tear through you.

The aftershocks have you pulsing around Emily’s fingers, clamping her in place as you let out sporadic, whiny moans against the flushed skin of her chest.

When your body finally calms down enough for you to catch your breath, you tilt up, kissing just below the notch of Emily’s throat. You kiss her jaw next, taking the other side in your palm and smooshing her cheek against yours.

Emily’s giggles, gently slipping her fingers from the confines of your pussy. You bite your lip, stifling a whimper.

She wraps her arms around your waist, hugging your midsection as you rub against her face like a needy kitten.

“You’re so cute.” Emily’s voice is featherlight, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I thought I was sexy.” You frown, sarcastically.

“You definitely are, but as of right now… you’re adorable. All cuddly and well-fucked.” You shy at her blunt words, cheeks flushing as you turn away from her, hiding your face in her hair.

You breathed in her intoxicating scent. Her hair emanates a sweet floral scent mixed with a tinge of cigarettes. While her skin smells of fresh air and the faded essence of lotion she’d put on after her shower, as well as a hint of sunscreen.

You place a kiss to the muscle of her shoulder, rubbing your nose over it before sliding all the way back up to her jaw, pressing a kiss there before pressing another to her chin and bottom lip.

Emily hums, absorbing your affection like it fuels her life force. And in her opinion, it does.

She kisses you back with a gentle urgency, taking her time, letting you lead.

She smiles into the kiss as you slide your hands down from her neck to her chest. Taking the thick flesh of her breasts in your grip.

“God, have I told you how much I love this bra on you…” you trail kisses down the side of her neck before coming to a stop over her cleavage, licking a strip along the valley between her water-dappled mounds.

“Well noted...” She chuckles.

Now it was Emily’s turn to be toyed with.

You dip your thumbs beneath the cups of her bra, pulling them slowly to the side. You press open mouthed kisses to the porcelain skin with each centimeter revealed.

You looked up to her with a curious expression, silently asking for permission.

“I’m all yours.” Emily states, simply. And that’s all you need.

Peeling the wet fabric away from her nipples, Emily inhales a shaky breath. Immediately, they stiffen. You place gentle kisses over the now exposed buds, enclosing your lips around one before sucking it into your mouth, twirling your tongue over it with a teasing slowness.

Emily watches you with intent, her gaze never faltering from the scene that’s playing out before her.

“That feels so good, baby.. don’t stop.” Her brows furrow and her warm pants fan over your face.

You grin, pulling her nipple between your molars and biting down. Emily jerks, only causing the sensation to sharpen.

“Naughty…” she whispers, pushing the messy hair from your forehead and placing a kiss there.

“It’s not too much, is it?” Your expression turns worried, your hands coming to rest over both breasts.

“No, not at all… matter of fact, rough is good. But right now…” she pets the top of your head. “I just wanna take it easy.. slow. I wanna savor it, savor you.” She smiles down at you, the dimple in her cheek quickly manifesting before disappearing.

“Oh god..” you groan, the thought of having rough sex with the beautiful Emily Prentiss plagues your mind with horrendous thoughts. But alas…

She chuckles, and your mouth moves back to her nipples once again. Twirling your tongue over one bud while you roll the other between your fingers.

“Fuck, I love your tits…” you gaze almost lovingly at them, wrapping your grip around their base and squeezing.

Emily juts her chest out proudly, taking it upon herself to wiggle them around, teasingly. You feel like a horse with a carrot dangling over its head in that ridiculous moment.

Growling, you wrap your arms around her back and pull her chest to you, pressing your face between the perfect mounds. Emily couldn’t help but laugh.

Copying her movements from earlier, your hands loosen around her waist and begin sliding down to her bottom, gripping it in both hands and pulling her hard against your leg.

“Mmm…” Emily hums, letting her body become weightless in the water, allowing you to manipulate and move it however you please.

You lean up to connect your mouths, slow and heady. Her lips are slightly cold and swollen from the water, sliding addictively with yours.

You flatten your hand over her stomach, letting it slide down and rest just over her pubic mound.

Boldly, her hand reaches down to grab yours, shoving it past the hem of her bottoms. Your fingers immediately coming in contact with the pool of wetness accumulated in the gusset.

“Jesus christ, Emily…” you pant against her lips, she simply smirks.

“I’m impatient.” She nips your bottom lip before pulling you back into a powerful kiss, hard and fast moving.

You groan, gliding your fingers through her drenched slit, collecting the arousal and spreading it over her clit. You circle the tiny bud slowly, switching between different angles and directions, searching for which elicited the desired reaction.

Emily let out a soft moan as you press against her harder, making clockwise circles. Her teeth clack against yours as she tries her best to kiss you back, but to no avail.

“Faster.” She pulls away, resting her forehead against yours, her hips rolling in a steady rhythm.

You listen to her demands, quickly picking up the pace.

Emily whimpers quietly, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration. Her hips stutter slightly as the pressure becomes too much, but she doesn’t falter. She keeps chasing it, grinding into you with desperation.

Her bangs fall back into place over her forehead as she slouches against your shoulder, her arms coming to wrap around your neck, her hand entangling in your nape.

“Need you inside.” She pants against your bare chest, her skin burning.

You press a few wet kisses to the side of her neck as you slip a finger inside, letting her adjust for a moment before pulling out and adding a second.

You curl inside of her, pressing up against the spongy spot just past her entrance. Emily lets you control the pace for a little while, but after what felt like a short eternity, she craves more.

She starts rolling into you at a quick pace, practically riding your fingers. She puffs out breathy moans with each stroke, the burn growing more powerful with each brush against that spot deep inside.

“Fuck..” Emily’s hand in your hair tugs roughly, pulling your head back and exposing your neck. She bites into your pulse point, sucking gently before letting her tongue swipe over the mark.

“You fuck me so good, y/n, don’t stop..” she whispers, switching to the other side of your neck and down the same.

The sound of her needy pleads urge you on. You sync up with the rhythm she’s built, pressing into her as her hips press into you. Your thumb nudging against her clit as you do so.

Her free hand slides up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards hers. Her eyes bore into yours as she moves, lids heavy and threatening to close, but she keeps them open. Her bottom lip shines with saliva and her cheeks glow with the rosy hue of her fluster.

You pant into each other's mouths, faces mere inches apart. Emily smiles as she feels the coil building in her belly, tilting her hips just a bit more against your thumb for that extra push.

"Shit- m' cumming..." Emily holds your face in her hands as she finishes, her eyes inevitably falling closed and face scrunching up. Her head rolls backwards and thighs quiver as the powerful shocks overtake her body.

You shudder as you watch her muscles spasm, the inner walls of her pussy tightening around your fingers.

“You look so beautiful like this… you’re always so beautiful.” You murmur, pressing gentle kisses to the warm flesh of her neck and cheeks.

Emily giggles, tucking herself against you, running her nails over your back.

“I think that was well worth the risk of getting put on a list…” Emily jeers.

“Oh my god… no cause I actually forgot about that- we literally could’ve gotten arrested.” You pull back to look at her with a distraught expression.

Emily can’t help but laugh, knowing all too well that she had today especially planned so that you wouldn’t run into anyone. Just in case. But you didn’t need to know that.

“You’re laughing, but I would’ve killed myself… what would you do then!?” You unwrap yourself from her body and swim away, crossing your arms and giving her a scowl.

“Y/n, baby… I wouldn’t let anything happen. I’d like to think my special training and hypervigilance would come in handy for a moment like that.” Emily chuckles, swimming over to you.

Wrapping her arms around your neck, she pulls you in for a warm hug, twirling you in the water once more.

“Ugh I just can’t resist you..” you pull her face in, pressing a chaste but passionate kiss to her lips.

You stay in each other's embrace for a while, floating amongst the dragon flies and water lilies. Holding on to each other until your fingers shrivel and lips turn blue from the changing temperature of the day.

Inevitably, you and Emily climb out of the water, fixing your top. And by that, meaning Emily pulled it the rest of the way off and pocketed it.

Once you both are dry enough to redress, she helps you with your shirt and pants, and you do the same.

Walking hand in hand, you and Emily start your descent back to the car. Laughing to each other about what the marks you’ve left on eachother look like, and what you might do to cover them up. You confidently decide you will not be.

Unfortunately for Emily, her place of employment most likely won’t take very well to her showing up covered in hickeys like she’s a teenager.

When you reach Emily’s car in the lot, she opens the door for you, playfully slapping your ass as you climb in.

The drive back to your apartment is peaceful, similar to the one you’d shared that same morning. Except now, Emily holds your hand over the center console, occasionally brushing her thumb over your knuckles.

Unlocking the door to your home, you invite Emily in, and she graciously accepts. Letting the door click shut before throwing her bags to the floor and crashing herself into you.

She sleeps peacefully in your bed tonight, tucked up against you and snoring away. She can’t possibly get any more beautiful.

Tonight, it wasn't just chit-chat over a glass of wine with a side of pretzels and sexual tension. It was an expression of how much you truly mean to one another. The way she touches you, kisses you, holds you. The way you bring each other to tears, in laughter and in ecstasy. It all comes down to one thing.

There is a great love growing wild between you and Emily. Lingering in silent eyes.

It might take a while to finally find its way into words, but when it does; It will be worth every second that you and Emily spent without knowing.

…

A/n: thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave a comment if you have anything you’d like to critique or if you have a request!! I love you guys!

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #paget brewster #ao3 #criminal minds #lesbian #reader insert #wlw #wlw smut #Emily Prentiss is a sap

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asterias-record-shop · 9 months ago

Text

star, doll, goddess, muse — (r.a.b., m.r., t.n., l.b.)

Your boyfriend Regulus was the hottest guy in school, and the rest of his band mates were definitely up there too. When he asked you to be part of his band as a singer, you didn’t expect his band to be a part of your entire relationship as well. 3.1K words – happy birthday bestie! @nastyyavenuee

“Reggie, I don’t like the lyrics,” you sighed as you pressed your face into the pillow, throwing your notebook across the bed. “They don’t fit the mood of the song.”

“What do you mean, darling?” Regulus looked up from strumming his bass, raising a brow. “I thought you liked them.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “That was before Enz started adding all of those drums and now it sounds like a sex song.”

Regulus grinned. He only grinned like that with you, specifically when he had dirty thoughts. “Oh yeah? What kind of sex song?”

At first, you didn’t really realize what he was asking. “Come on! Mattheo wrote, ‘perfect skin glimmering as she pleads, stars running down her cheeks as she screams?’ That is literally fucking someone and making them cry.”

Regulus stood, setting his bass down and walking over, coming behind you as you shifted to lay on your stomach. He softly kissed your shoulder blade as you continued to mumble the lyrics under your breath.

“I don’t even have any lines to sing! And what is this? It’s you, She’s my star, she’s his doll, and then it switches to Matty, she’s my goddess, she’s his muse, and she’s all of our- *laugh.* What the hell does that mean? Laugh in asterisks? What does that mean?!”

He laughed softly as he continued to kiss your skin, humming softly. “Think, my star,” he mumbled, continuously kissing against the back of your neck. “Just think… my darling star.”

You inhaled deeply, swallowing. “This… it’s about me?”

He laughed. “Of course it’s about you, doll… who else would it be about?”

You smiled, leaning your head back onto his shoulder as he slipped his fingers under your hips to slightly lift you up. He positioned himself above you as he helped support your now lifted ass, slipping a pillow under your hips.

“I don’t think it was the best…” you inhaled as he lifted your skirt, his tongue trailing along your shoulder. “To expose me like that.”

“Expose you?” Regulus laughed. “How is it exposing you when you’re always so obvious?”

“Obvious?” You scoffed slightly, unable to stop yourself from giggling slightly. “How is it so obvious?”

He laughed, using one hand and keeping you up before he started to undo his zipper with a soft groan. “Look how you don’t even protest or anything… you’re so used to just being lifted up and used.”

A sharp inhale leaves your mouth as he softly begins to roll his hips, letting his cock rub against your bare cunt as he groans softly. “Come on, you know that… you know that when we started opening up the relationship, I had to be ready… at all times…”

“Oh, I know,” he groaned, slowly sipping inside with a sharp inhale. “Fuck, you’re so perfect… so perfectly stretched, who fucked you last?”

You groaned as he steadily rolled his hips, moaning as he kneeled down behind you. “M-Matty… Matty fucked me last.”

He hummed, groaning as his thrusts got more collected, easing into a steady rhythm as you dug your nails into the pillow. “You like his dick better than mine?”

Oh, you liked all of their cocks for different reasons. Mattheo’s dick was the perfect blend between girth and length, Regulus’ cock was mainly length, Enzo’s was more on the shorter side with a larger girth, and Theo’s cock was perfect on both length and thickness, but he kept himself prettily groomed.

“N-No-!” You gasped as he snapped his hips forward, roughly fucking you into your cunt, groaning into your ear. “R-Reggie!”

“Mmm, such a perfect cunt,” he murmured into your ear, groaning softly. “Dammit… mhm, I’m going to love watching my cum drip down your thighs as you play that guitar.”

You blushed madly, inhaling as you tilted your head back. “Oh my goodness…”

He laughed again, groaning as he started to move faster, his hot breath fanning your ear as you pushed your hand back to hold his head with a soft whine. “My star, you’re so fucking perfect…”

“F-Fuck, I love it, I love it…” you whined mindlessly, rutting your hips back into his as he groaned.

“There you go, keep fucking yourself back onto me,” he moaned, pulling you closer as he kissed the back of your neck. “Come on.”

You moaned loudly as you tilted your head back onto his shoulder, whining as he continued to roll his hips, fucking into you faster as you felt your stomach start to twist and clench. “R-Reggie-!”

“I know baby, I know… cum, cum on my cock… and then I’m going to fill you up so much that you’re going to be leaking.”

You whined as his hand slipped under you, his fingers rubbing against your clit roughly in a circle as you choked softly, tilting your head back as his face ducked down to kiss against your neck. You could feel your orgasm getting close at the added stimulation, whimpering softly as he continued to rut his hips roughly, groaning into your ear.

He felt your cunt clenching around his cock, a telltale sign that you were about to cum as he continued to rut his hips. “Fuck, you get so tight…”

Your mind was blurred as you whined softly, unable to think of anything else. Your stomach was clenching as you neared your orgasm, his loud grunts barely able to be heard over the ringing of your ears – fucking hell, you were so close.

“R-Reggie…”

He groaned as he twisted your clit, just rough enough for you to get pushed over the edge, cumming as you whined loudly. As you came, your walls clamped down on him, pushing him over the edge as well for him to cum into you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you whined loudly, your stomach burning as you came on his cock, his cum slowly pumping into you. The hot ropes of cum made your stomach twist as he continued to languidly roll his hips, tilting his head forward as he moaned into the crook of your neck.

“Fucking hell, my pretty star… you drive me crazy…”

You whined softly as you held onto your pillow, his lips pressing to your head against the sweaty hairs stuck to your skin. “Take a rest, baby… we have band practice later.”

You hummed softly as he stayed inside of you, closing your eyes as he helped your body steadily lay against your bed before kissing your head again. He doesn’t pull out, not that you wanted him to, steadily holding his weight above you as you softly kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper softly into his ear, humming.

“I love you too, my beautiful star,” he whispered back, kissing your head again as sleep slowly took over.

When you woke up, Regulus was dressed and you had some new clothes on. It was Theo’s favorite outfit, a yellow plaid skirt with a black button down that had Theo’s initials engraved on it, as well as some black blocky heels that covered your fishnet leggings.

Almost on cue, Theo walked out of the restroom, smiling at you. “Hello, my muse,” he smiled, humming as he walked over, rubbing his head with a towel. “Good nap?”

You hummed, leaning your head into his kiss as he softly held your cheek. “Yeah. Good nap.”

“Good, my muse,” he mumbled as he ducked down to softly kiss your lips, smiling. “I got you dressed so you could go and sit with us in the astronomy tower while we practice.”

You paused slightly, tilting your head as he softly puckered his lips to yours again as he continued to talk. Oh, Theo was always good with his mouth. “I’m not going to practice?”

He hummed, shaking his head as he kissed the corner of your lips. “No my muse, this is our song for you.”

You smiled as you leaned into his chest, humming softly. “Fine. Help me up.”

And he does, helping you stand against him before Regulus walked over and pulled you onto his hip. “Good morning, my star.”

You smiled as you leaned into him. “It’s not morning, Reggie.”

“Well you just woke up,” he hummed in response as the three of you walked out, Theo leaning closer to you. “It’s only right to say good morning.”

“Is it though?” Theo said playfully, smiling as his eyes trail over your chest to see his initials monogrammed onto the shirt you wore.

“Shut up,” Regulus snapped in annoyance, pushing Theo’s head away as he ducked down to give you a kiss.

“I’m agreeing with you, my muse. I feel like that should get me a kiss…”

He puckers his lips as you blushed madly, pushing him away as you cover your mouth. What was so bad about the school not knowing you fucked four guys?

Honestly, it wasn’t bad. You weren’t embarrassed. You just knew that as soon as everyone knew, they would never let anyone forget.

The entire flight up the stairs, Regulus tried to push Theo off of you as he kissed you repeatedly. Normally, he didn’t mind too much, but this time, he minded more than usual because Theo was obviously getting horny with your clothes on him.

You giggled as you walked into the rehearsal room, biting your lip as his hands pulled your waist into his own, kissing against your neck as he groaned into your ear.

“Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad,” he mumbled into your ear, groaning softly as you pushed your hand back to cup his face. “You’re so beautiful…”

“Go play,” you smiled, gasping as you felt a slight spark of electricity run up your finger, and when you looked up, Mattheo was already sweating as he set down his guitar and walked toward you, holding your hips tightly and pulling you in for a firm kiss. “Did you shock me?”

He hummed, nodding as you spoke into his mouth, groaning softly as he pulled your waist into his and groaned into your mouth. “Hell yeah I did,” he mumbled, tilting his head as he pulled you closer. “Wanted your attention on me-”

You yelped as someone dragged you away from him, Enzo grinning as he cupped your face and pulled you in for a firm kiss. “Didn’t want you to forget about me…” his fingers slipped under your skirt, sliding down to where your cunt was still bare besides thin strips of the fishnets. You gasped as he bit his lip, groaning softly as he slipped his fingers into you. “Oh you’re fucking filled…”

“Quit it!” Regulus gets on stage, grabbing his bass that he must have brought earlier. “We have to practice.”

Enzo rolled his eyes, giving you one more kiss. “Boss is calling, doll,” he smiled, chuckling slightly. “Go sit down, we brought you up a couch.”

You smiled, humming as you kissed him again. “Okay.”

So you moved to sit down, the boys getting behind their instruments before Regulus jumped down, throwing something at you. At first you didn’t realize what it was, blushing when you saw the pink vibrator as he held up the remote.

“Play with yourself as we play your song. Makes it better.”

You weren’t going to say no, especially when you knew that he was going to let all of them take turns with the remote, and they always looked so hot when they played their instruments.

So, you laid back on the couch, watching as they correlated which parts went to who. Of course Regulus would say that you were his star and Matty would say you’re his goddess, along with the very explicit crying parts and all of them joined in for the chorus – even Theo who played the drums – but the rest of the parts were still open.

As you watched them argue, you got more and more turned on, slowly sliding the small vibrator up and down your slit. They slowly began mumbling instead of arguing, letting you capture their attention as they moved to settling the actual sound of the song.

At first, you don’t notice the missing guitar, still mindlessly pressing the vibrator to your clit as you smear the cum dripping out of you all around your puffy cunt lips, until a hand softly touches against your knee. Your eyes snapped open, stomach clenching as Enzo crawled toward you. You inhaled as he softly kissed against your thigh, kneeling in front of you. “Y-You should be practicing…”

“I should be,” he whispered, gently licking against your puffy lips as you whimpered softly, inhaling sharply as he parted your thighs. “But you look so pretty like this…”

You inhaled sharply as he took the vibrator from between your fingers, rubbing his fingers along your stretched cunt as you put your ankles over his shoulders, moaning as he brushed his tongue along your slit to lick up the cum. “I want you… I want you so bad…”

You moaned as you lifted your hips, letting him slide his hands under your thighs and pull you closer, his mouth enclosing your entrance and his fingers pushing into you.

A wail fell from your mouth as he did so – Enzo was always good with his fingers.

His tongue joined in with his tongue, groaning as he started to lick up the mixed cum that fell from your pretty cunt, his mouth eagerly opening and closing against your cunt before lapping at the newly formed essence that dripped out. “So… fucking… good,” he moaned, tilting his head back as he stroked your slit and started to rub at your clit with his other hand. “Fuck… you always taste so good, doll, so so good…”

“E-Enzo…” You whimpered, tilting your head back as he rutted his hips. “Pl-Please, don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, groaning softly, pushing his face deeper into your now ripped fishnets. “Oh fuck doll…”

You whined, bucking your hips as you held the back of his head, unable to register the pausing of the music. You were too focused on his mouth to register Mattheo coming behind you, gasping as you felt something prod against your mouth. Your eyes flew open, looking up to stare at Mattheo’s pretty cock.

Mattheo was very good with his cock.

He smiled down at you, gently patting your lips with the tip of his cock. “Open your mouth, my goddess,” he hummed, leaning forward slightly. “And suck me off.”

Regulus pulled your hand to his cock, humming with a slight bite of his lip. “Come on. Put all of your body to work.”

Almost on cue, Theo came to your other side, pulling your hand to his cock.

“All of you,” he groaned, bucking his hips as Enzo grazed his teeth against your clit, making your hips jolt. “Make all of us feel so fucking good.”

You opened your mouth obediently, gagging softly as Mattheo pushed into your mouth, eyes rolling back as Regulus and Theo spitting into your hand as you felt Enzo’s mouth push closer to your entrance.

You started to pump his cock, gagging on Mattheo’s as he gently rolled his hips, groaning loudly. He inhaled deeply as you bobbed your head steadily, Theo and Regulus thrusting their hips into your hand. “Fuck, my star, you know just how to treat us…”

You choked as Enzo’s fingers got rougher inside of you, his other hand moving down to your ass. You gagged as you felt your eyes roll back into your head, his hands soaked from your wetness in your cunt, slowly pushing into your back entrance so that one of the boys could use you later. Your head couldn’t have tilted back more as Mattheo continued to use your throat like a fleshlight as he moaned loudly.

Regulus and Theo never paused in their thrusts, wrapping their hands around yours to keep your grip tight on their cock as you spread cum and precum up and down their shafts. Enzo continued to use his fingers to stretch out both of your entrances, your hips rolling back and forth to keep both of them inside of you, Enzo’s mouth never leaving your pussy.

He was sloppily eating you out, saliva and cum dripping down your slit down to the cushions of the couch as Regulus started to speed up. This was his second orgasm of the day, so he was definitely going to get closer faster than the rest of them.

Enzo wasn’t even close, Mattheo’s hips were moving faster as he rutted into your throat and tried to get to his high quicker while you were approaching yours quickly. He was so close just like you were, as well as Regulus and Theo as Enzo started to flick his tongue against your clit making you squirm.

You gagged around Mattheo’s cock, eyes watering as you tried to get to your high, your stomach clenching and twisting as Enzo continued to get you closer to the edge. The grunts of the men around you made your body tingle, and with one more flick of his tongue to your clit, you came all over his face.

The triple stimulation made your mind blur and your vision go black, choking as Mattheo’s cum spurted down your throat as cum splattered onto Theodore’s monogrammed shirt. It was hot and wet, so much so that you could feel it through the expensive fabric, gagging as Mattheo pulled out of your mouth and continued to spurt cum into your mouth and on your lips.

You eagerly licked up the pearlescent liquid as Regulus let your hands fall, inhaling. “Get on your knees.”

You did so quickly, Enzo quickly moving to your mouth so that you could give him head as Regulus laid beneath you, slipping into your cunt as Theo pushed into your ass, Mattheo staking his claim on your fist and keeping it tight around his shaft.

“You’re so fucking perfect, my star,” Regulus whispered into your neck, moaning against your sweat-shined skin. “Such a perfect little free-use lead singer for us.”

And you couldn’t have loved it more.

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsibility.

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zepskies · 2 months ago

Text

The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn.

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly.

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now.

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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imasoftieforbarb · 1 year ago

Note

reactions and headcanons of brozone about: how would they fell about y/n having an egg?(once married ofc) sorry if too much

John Dory

Definitely hubby material

Van life with you and him?

Chef kiss

He definitely gives malewife vibes

Because he’s so used to being the responsible one

But he also deserves a break so you split all the chores in half

You surprise him with your pregnancy announcement by giving him a cup that says “worlds greatest Dad”

He’s shocked

Like he goes still and you worry- what if he doesn’t want children? It wasn’t a planned thing

And then he just scoops you up in arms and twirls you around

So many happy tears

Instantly tells everyone possible he’s gonna be a dad

That might is now his favorite mug- but he refuses to use it until the baby is born

Those chores that you split? He is now taking on all of them so you can focus on the baby

Likes to speak to the egg, honestly he’s so sweet with it

Definitely plays brozone through headphones around the egg (“John what are you doing?” “I want them to have good taste”)

Clay

He gave up his admin house for you

Y’all still live in Putt Putt village (because I say so)

Viva moves to Pop village so he goes from co runner to leader

So y’all get her room/house

Being married to Clay is so chill

He’s so sweet and literally talks about you non stop even though more often that not you’re with him whilst he’s working

He found out about the pregnancy when you gave him a mini matching green sweater romper

He was like

“Thanks! Not sure if it’ll fit me but I love it anyway!”

It takes him a moment

He leaves the room then runs back in pointing at you like he’s in law and order

“YOURE PREGNANT?!?”

You are now on permanent bed rest

Likes to baby talk to the egg and sing it songs

Buys the new furniture immediately and then starts baby proofing the house

He’s determined to give this kid the best childhood

Bruce

When he marries you, that’s when he decides to change his name to Bruce

Y’all still open the restaurant on Vaycay island

You become the cutest couple on the island so fast

BEACH WEDDING

He definitely tears up whilst reading his vows

“Oh I’m crying…” *you pass him a q-tip* “what’s a q-tip gonna do?!”

Treats you like a queen

Another malewife vibe haver

But it’s not as strong

Y’all were already planning on having a big family

So when you tell him you’re having twins by making dinner, but putting two lil high chairs by the door

He sees them

And goes WILD

“What- is that? Does that mean? TWINS?!?!”

He’s so happy, so many happy tears whilst y’all hug

“Uh- honey? Who’s watching the stove?” “Oh shit…”

Floyd

Dedicated husband fr fR

Has photos of you everywhere

Gets drunk and gets so happy when you tell him you’re his wife not his girlfriend

“THis IS myY WiFE”

Everyone knows don’t worry

Always talked about having kids but didn’t plan for it

Well he did (but only in his lil dreams)

Then one day you made his dreams come true

He got home from hanging out with Branch

(Who you’d asked to keep him distracted)

And he comes home to a really big home cooked meal

And a decorated boiled egg

He goes to eat said egg- but you tell him to break it open

“Why?” “It’s a surprise hun- I’m not supposed to tell you”

Inside is a lil parenting book called ‘daddy and I’

Silence, smile on his face

Tears rolling down his face before he stands up and walked over to you putting the book down on the table

Wraps you up in a such a soft hug that you start crying too

Peppers kisses all over your face

“You really do make my dreams come true”

Doesn’t tell his brothers immediately- wants you to himself

Makes sure you’re careful with doing everything

Just likes to lie down on the bed with you and the egg and put his hand softly on the surface (he cries a lil bit everytime)

When he eventually tells people- it’s completely by accident

#brozone #brozone x reader #trolls band together #trolls floyd #trolls Floyd x reader #brozone floyd #brozone floyd x reader #brozone john dory x reader #brozone bruce x reader #brozone clay x reader #brozone clay #trolls clay x reader #trolls jd x reader #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls bruce x reader

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rubiehart · 6 days ago

Text

LOOK AFTER YOU…

pairing: jj maybank x bsf!reader

summary: an alternative universe to my own bsf!reader, where her parents aren’t supportive of her and jj’s relationship and the consequences of that.

warnings: graphic description of injuries, mentions of physical, mental and verbal abuse, underage use of tobacco, hurt/comfort.

a/n: literally came up with this in ten minutes and binge wrote it in an hour, wasn’t even initially gonna be based on any song but this one just fit so well so why no lol. i guess this is kinda the start of my comeback for the new year, hope you all love ♡︎

♪ Look After You - The Fray ♪

Honestly, JJ didn’t know how he ended up dating the girl who’d been his best friend since elementary school, how sharing beds after a long day of surfing in middle school turned into them smushed up against each other only three years later, limbs tangled and breath mingling, completely drunk off of each other, completely enamoured by the other like it was the first glimpse.

He knew she was a bitch sometimes, he knew she was sweet sometimes, but only ever around him and when they’d completely stripped each other of every wall they’d put up, emotions raw and throat’s even more so from whatever had gone on with their own parents in the place they were supposed to call home. Neither of them knew the meaning until that night.

That one night that changed the entire rest of their lives, for better or worse? Neither of them knew. The night when they both separately hit rock bottom. Absolutely nothing to lose, now. The lowest of the low. Hell.

She’d just been kicked out by her parents for good, and it really was official this time. Something stupid she’d done with JJ that really wasn’t as serious as they were making it seem, but it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final push that made them force all their walls up against JJ, but they were a team, two halves of a whole, so in her eyes, if they were denying JJ they were also denying her, and she didn’t have time or the energy to deal with people like that, so she up and left that night. Sending JJ a quick text before shoving her dying phone in the pocket of her battered shorts and setting off to where she knew he’d go to first.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ’s situation was similar, something simmering on a low heat in Luke’s body for a few days previous, a few too many pills popped and he was ready to burst, and who better to take it out on that his sixteen year old son? No one, supposedly. This is how JJ ends up shoving open the door to the wooden lodge he’s supposed to call home, body aching as he forces himself down the steps, stumbling on an already bruised leg, until he reaches the edge of the lawn of the Maybank residence. The last thing he hears is the raw, blood curdling yell of his father, ‘Run and pray I don’t find ya, boy!’, the blood rushing in his ears and the soft beating of his combat boots against the dead grass, a baffling contrast to the absolute war in his mind.

His bruised legs carry him all the way across the island, the only thing in his mind is her, and it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet, head spinning, as he continually tells himself, ‘Just a little longer, J’, ‘A little longer than you can take a break.’ He doesn’t let himself stop until he gets there, lungs gasping for a breath of fresh air as the wind rushes past his ears, legs aching and stinging but he fights it until the image he’d been imagining comes into view through the weeds of the marsh. The lighthouse.

He’d found her on the rocky island, as expected slumped against the rocky wall of the structure, red and white painted chipped to hell. She was wearing an oversized black tank top, assumably his, the usual pair of denim shorts, and some beat up sneakers, hair falling in front of her eyes, cigarette already burning between her lips.

It’s late, the moonlight bathes her body, forearms resting on her knees, friendship bracelets dangling from her wrists and brushing against the grazed skin of her legs. He wordlessly slumps down next to her, groaning softly as his beaten body hits the rocky floor, a streak of white hot pain passing through his chest.

She obviously senses his presence, it’s completely un-ignorable. She makes brief eye contact with him in the pale light, a warm glow casted over her face from the flame at the end of the cigarette, highlighting the tear marks down her freckled cheeks, now dried and assumably sticky in the soft wind of the late night.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, and neither does he.

That’s one thing that was so special about them, even before they’d gotten together and were just best friends with insane sexual tension, they could always read the other’s mind without sharing any words, could read each other fluently with just looks and body language.

The toe of her beat up sneaker digs into the rocks scattering the floor, and he watches her from the corner of him eye, chest still heaving, her head falls back against the concrete wall of the lighthouse, exhaling into the cold night as she passes off the burning stick to him. He notices how her fingernails are painted shimmery purple, or were, now they’re all chipped and her fingernails are bitten.

He accepts the cigarette, the familiar bitter tobacco and smoke slip past his chapped lips, gash on the lower corner re opening as he inhales. He couldn’t care less in this moment as they both sit wordlessly in the moonlight. She could practically feel the tension in his shoulders and the inevitable tightness in his chest, maybe this cigarette wasn’t the best thing for him right now, but everyone’s got their way of dealing, so she keeps her mouth shut for once.

He glances at her through his peripheral, pulling his legs up into a similar position to her, arms aching as he rests his forearms against his bloody knees. His hooded eyes frail over her tear stained cheeks. She’s tough. Tougher than anybody he’d ever met. He knew not to push her to talk. She’d talk when she was ready, and he wasn’t exactly eager to tell her about what went on tonight, either.

Her softer fingers brush his calloused ones when he passes it back, taking a drag and holding it in her lungs, letting it burn, because in this moment she wants to hurt, the pain is almost a comfort.

She exhales, smoke clouding his image of her for a second as she passes it back off to him, the orange glow lighting him up for once as her lips part to speak.

It’s raspy, like she’d been screaming, or crying, or both. He assumes both because he knows how it is in her house, much like she knows how it is in his. The precise reason why she doesn’t question the cuts on his cheekbones, or the grazes on his knees and elbows, and knows that there’s bound to be a ton more all over his body, concealed by his threadbare shirt and cargo shorts, curtesy of his deadbeat father.

“Got thrown out.”

Her voice pierces the bitterly cold wind that blows, blowing his sweaty, blonde tresses every which way, he lifts a hand to cover the end of the cigarette, blocking it from the strong gusts, the silver of his rings glinting in the orange glow.

He nods once, taking a hit as he takes in the information, he’s not all that suprised though, it was only a matter of time, he knows they’d been waiting for anything to happen to get rid of her for good.

“Same here.”

He says with a soft chuckle, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes and she doesn’t wonder why. He doesn’t want her to know the extent of it though, he doesn’t want her to know how bad it gets. Doesn’t want her to worry.

A small smile graces her lips, the skin stretching tight from the cold, licking over her lips once as she glances at him. She doesn’t even know why, she’s got absolutely nothing to smile about, sixteen, homeless, not even a dollar to her name, but just a glance at him smiling lifts a weight off of her, like maybe things weren’t going to be so bad.

She takes the cigarette back from him, mock forcefully, a ghost of a smirk still lingering as she takes another drag, shorter this time, sucking and blowing before speaking again, forearms adjusting on her grazed knees with a silent hiss, teeth gritted.

“What for?”

He lets out a bitter scoff, staring at his shoes so he doesn’t have to meet her eyes. The moonlight is making her look a fallen angel, all soft and pretty but still a little rough around the edges, just like him. He shrugs like he doesn’t know, pretending like he doesn’t know she can read him like a book.

“Same old bullshit.” He mumbles around the cig, taking a second drag since she’d passed it back, like he was trying to drown out the memory. She scoffs, mirroring his own reaction. Two halves of a whole. She can’t stop her eyes from wandering to his side profile, illuminated by the soft amber glow of the flame, highlighting the slope of his angular nose, the chisel of his cheekbones, already blooming with black and purple splotches, but he’s beautiful to her nonetheless.

She forces her eyes away and nods. “Same.” Picking at the chipped polish along her nails as she glares out at the horizon, the waves lapping ever so quietly at the rocky shore, the light from the lookout flickering dully above their heads.

He huffs softly, shaking his head, passing back the cigarette with trembling fingers.

Of course that was the reason, on her end anyway, and without her explicitly stating it he knows what her ‘same old bullshit’ is. He had pretty much known from the start that her parents wouldn’t be supportive of their relationship. He was a troublemaker, a bad kid, the kind of boy parents warned their daughters about.

He looks up at her, fiddling with his fingers between the gap in his bent knees, blonde hair flopping over his sweat slicked forehead, tickling at the gash above his eyebrow. He studies her profile as the glow of the cigarette lights her up. Even with her hair messy and her eyes red rimmed and her eyeliner smeared down her cheeks, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of them, the gravity of the situation hitting them both at different speeds. Two homeless, empty pocketed sixteen year olds, only their love for each other keeping them above water. Dodging whirlpools and massive swells with just each other to stay afloat. She digs the toe of her sneaker into scatter of rocks again, the soft clink of them the only thing heard other than the soft lapping of waves and their breathing, which had now synced.

He keeps his eyes on her, studying her and taking in every single detail in the moonlight. He can see every single freckle on her skin, every single eyelash. She’s perfect. Gorgeous. An angel amongst a sea of demons. He leans in closer, gently knocking his knee against hers.

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

He mutters under his breath, so close she can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

She turns her head, hair falling infront of her black rimmed eyes, framing her blood rushed cheeks in the moonlight, nursing the fading cigarette between her fingers. She nods once, it’s small but it’s there, and it’s all the reassurance that he needs that they’re gonna be okay.

She leans a little more into his touch so they stay close, shoulders occasionally brushing and knees pressed together.

“Yeah.” She breathes out, a small smile making its way onto her lips.

He’s tempted to reach for her hand, to tangle his fingers in hers, to hold her as tight as possible for as long as possible, because she’s all he has left, and he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold her close, she’ll disappear like every other ounce of hope in his life.

But he doesn’t know if she’s okay with being touched right now. He knows she can be sensitive sometimes when she’s like this, closed off and thinking. So he keeps his hands to himself, not wanting to overstep. Instead, he just lets himself lean into her a little more, head tilted a little to the side to give her more than enough space if she wants to lean her head against his shoulder like she does sometimes. He’s making it clear that if she needs him, he’s here. Always.

Then, almost as if reading his mind, her hands finds his, soft skin brushing callouses along his pinkie finger, it’s hesitant but it’s not accidental as their fingers intertwine. She doesn’t look at him but he doesn’t need her to to know what she’s thinking. She stubs out the cigarette with her other hand, the ash hissing softly against the concrete wall behind her head before she flicks the butt into the rocks. Waves lap against the shore, sea foam clotting and sticking and forming pretty consolations, her thumb brushes over his bruised knuckles thoughtfully, but it’s natural and unpracticed.

He lets out a shaky exhale as her delicate fingers wrap around his. They’re smaller than his, more nimble, and yet they’re strong. Stronger than normal, like she’s solidifying every word she’s conveying through his simple touch. That this is real. Once that contact is made he feels like he can breathe again. Her skin feels electric against, sending sparks up his arm and signals to his brain that stop him feeling the dull, everlasting ache all over his body, that thrums low but never truly leaves for good. But this feels right. It feels good.

The winds starting to pick up a little now, she has no idea what time it is and neither does he, but it’s a distant worry. She’s got a little niggling at the back of her brain that there’s a storm incoming, but she’s not sure when or where’d she’d heard it, every memory from the past few days blending into one, where she can’t pinpoint any individual words or emotions.

She lets her eyelids flutter closed, head laying down softly onto JJ’s shoulder, incase there was a nasty bruise underneath the worn cotton, he wouldn’t have told her even if there was. She breathes steadily, breathing in the lingering scent of him on the warm skin of his neck: sea water, sweat and a hint of the old spice cologne he’d stolen from his dad in ninth grade, and then kept stealing bottles whenever it’d run out.

She squeezed his hand in hers: once, twice, three times. A silent ‘I love you’. Neither of them had ever been any good with words, but they didn’t need to be.

She doesn’t know whats going to happen and she doesn’t know what they’re going to do after tonight, when they wake up tomorrow morning in the abandoned lighthouse with less than a dollar to their shared name. But she doesn’t let the thought cloud her memory too long, because with JJ by her side it’s hard to worry about things that aren’t facing you yet, it’s easy to just live in the moment with him.

With her head leaning against his shoulder, breath from her nose tickling his skin, he takes the time to study her for the billionth time that night. Taking in the slope of her nose, her jawline, her eyelashes. His heart does all sorts of crazy things in his chest, things he’d never felt before her. But it’s not from fear, or uncertainty, or anything of the sort. Instead, it’s from love. From adoration. From everything he feels for her.

“I love you.”

He whispers, just loud enough for her to hear him over the wind.

Her eyelashes flutter open, kissing at her eyebrows, fingers still interlocked with his as she zones in on him, he notices the way her eyes are glazed over with tears.

It had always been harder for her to say those three words, even though she’d come from a more conventional family than JJ, his full of physical abuse, hers was full of mental and verbal abuse, the pushing down of her feelings to avoid manipulation is second nature to her. Usually.

But now with JJ, she lets out a soft exhale through her nose, pressing it against the side of his neck, breathing him in as she whispers, hot breath ticking the sensitive skin.

“I love you too.”

He can feel his cheeks heat up when her hot breath brushes against his skin. He doesn’t know why it makes him so flustered, because by this point he should be used to her touch, her quiet little declarations of love. He’s spent countless nights wrapped around her, his arms holding her to his chest like she’s his lifeline.

And yet, when she whispers that she loves him, his heart races in his chest. His fingers squeeze around hers so tight it’s bound to bruise. He doesn’t need to say anything back and she doesn’t expect it, he conveys everything he wants to say through the way his breath hitches and his heartbeat quickens under her ear.

Her eyes flick up to his profile after a minute or so, eyes roaming all over his features from this new angle, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, watching him fiddle with his rings on his fingers, twisting at them, pulling them off and putting them on again. She breaks through his quiet thoughts with a soft question, that he misses because it’s caught in the whisper of the wind.

“Hm?” He mumbles, hand reaching down to find hers again, squeezing it reassuringly as he looks down, hooded eyes completely captivated by her.

“Does it hurt?” She repeats softly, no irritation in her tone like normal when she has to repeat herself to him. He’s confused for a second, eyebrows furrowing until he realises she’s talking about the series of bruises across his cheekbone, her wide eyes lingering on the skin. It’s only then he remembers he was even hurt in the first place, and the low thrum of pain comes back all over his body, wound above his eyebrow stinging when a gust of wind blows.

She squeezes his hand again softly, not forcing him to speak if he doesn’t want to, being patient with him. His gaze stays on her, and he’s coming up with a lie, telling her he’s fine and not to worry about him. But the words get caught in his throat at the worry in her soft gaze. He doesn’t want to lie, not to her.

“Like hell.”

He mutters, bringing his free hand up to his eyeline, the one that’s not gripping hers. He stares down at his bruised knuckles, some starting to scab, others not, starting to turn an ugly shade or reddish purple.

“Yeah?” She replies softly, she seems to have thawed off a little, anger not so red hot, scalding in her fingertips. Not so angry at the world. Her free hand comes up to softly brush against the blossom of purple along his cheekbone, and his jaw ticks under her touch, refraining from flinching away from her. She notices, though, and tears spring to the corners of her eyes, tear ducts working overtime tonight, it seemed.

He lets out a shaky exhale, it’s covered by the wind but she doesn’t miss the quiver of his lips. Her gentle touch feels electric against his skin. He doesn’t want to flinch, but it hurts. It hurts.

Her touch is soft and delicate, tracing over the bruise with a feather light touch. His skin is heated and tender, and any contact makes the thrumming under his skin stronger. But at the same time, it feels good, because she’s touching him. Loving him.

His eyes dart up to meet hers, searching them for any sign of fear. Or disgust.

There’s nothing even close reflected in her eyes. They’re soft, softer than he’s ever seen them. That hard exterior she puts up is broken through as she looks at him, beaten and bruised. It makes her heart physically ache in her chest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She whispers softly, he hears her through the soft gust that comes in, blowing his hair out of his face a little, exposing the gash across his temple. He’s so tuned into her right now, overanalysing every movement she makes, every word, every breath.

He lets out a soft scoff, shaking his head. The last thing he wants to talk about is his piece-of-shit dad. Talking about the events of tonight wouldn’t change a single thing, and it’s just gonna make her worry.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

He mutters under his breath, avoiding her gaze. He knows she’s trying to be sweet, and care for him but he doesn’t want her to pity him. He doesn’t want her to think he’s weak.

She notices his walls coming back up, him pulling away from her a little, if not physically definitely internally. She doesn’t force anything, just nods softly, blinking back the tears in her eyes and slips her hand from his cheek, slumping back against the concrete wall with a soft sigh, knees and shoulders brushing.

The last thing she wants to do it push, make him cramp up and close himself off like he did sometimes.

The part of him that wants to lean back into her touch, to be held and loved and cared for after being beat to a pulp wars with the part of him that doesn’t want her pity.

He settles for somewhere in the middle, their thighs pressing together and shoulders brushing. He’s still avoiding her eyes, staring down at his bruised knuckles, biting back the tears that lodge his throat.

Her gaze stays on him for a long time, even if he’s refusing to reciprocate her longing gaze. She doesn’t mind, she just quietly watches, admires.

He feels her gaze on him and he can’t fight it anymore, he never could. His eyes flick to hers, fiddling with the rings on his thick fingers, forearms rested on his knees.

She’s giving him this look that makes him want to melt, like she sees right through him, for everything he is and everything he will be and the only emotion in her moonlit eyes is love.

“Do you..” She trails off, the wind picking up a little around them, the waves splatter against the rocks, sea foam clinging to the pebbles only a few meters away and JJ’s eyes flick from the shore, and then to her. He knows what she’s trying to ask, or along the lines of her question.

His heart’s doing that fluttering thing again, like a caged bird. He doesn’t need to be told what she’s asking, because he can read it in her eyes. He knows she’s not asking out of pity, or even out of lust. Just a pure, unconditional adoration. A need to hold the boy she loves. A need to be as close to him as possible. He knows there’s no point in denying her, and he doesn’t want to, anyway.

He nods shakily, letting his eyes flutter shut, pleading with him himself internally to not break, not yet.

“What do you need?”

She whispers softly, fingers itching to touch him, to comfort him, but she wants to touch him however he wants to be, and she don’t want to push anything.

He wants her. Needs her. He wants to run his fingers through her hair, feel her heart beating against his, breathe in the scent of her skin. And it’s not out of lustful desire, it’s out of a deep-down desperate need to feel safe. To feel wanted. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath. His eyes flick open, the saddest look she’d ever seen gracing his features, and she can tell he’s about to break.

“C’mere.”

He mutters under his breath, voice scratchy and quiet as he reaches his arms out for her, wincing softly at the stretch of the skin of his chest, littered with purple and blues.

She doesn’t wait to crawl into his lap, slowly, listening intently to every little gasp he makes to make sure she’s not putting any pressure on his major bruises, if they weren’t outside on a rocky beach, slumped against a wall, she’d be the one holding him, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and right now JJ needs her, no matter how.

Her chest is pressed against his, strong arms wrapped around her back and keeping her as close as possible to him. He’s holding her tighter than he should, afraid she might slip away if he loosens his grip.

His hands find her hips, snaking under the loose material of the tank top and digging affectionally into the warm skin there. The feeling of her finally being against him is driving him crazy, but in a good way, caged between the wall and her.

He lets out a shuddering breath, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling at her soft skin.

“You’re okay.” She whispers, resting one hand at the back of his head, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck gently, pressing her lips to his crown. She feels his shoulders begin to shake and the meltdown that he’d been holding back from all night crashing down and overtaking him now.

You know all you can do is be present, and reassure him. “Everything’s gonna be okay..”

He feels the dam inside of him break, like the floodgates had finally opened, and before he knows what he’s doing, hot tears are springing to his eyes.

She’s saying all the right things. She’s touching him like no one’s touched him. And it’s too much. Too much to handle. He buries himself against her chest, his arms wrapping around her torso to hold her close. He lets out another shuddering breath, a soft crying shortly following, and it’s guttural and soul shattering as he shakes against her.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” She mumbles into his sweaty hair, blonde tresses tickling at her chin, leaving kisses anywhere she can reach, hands carding through his hair, offering the maximum amount of comfort she can in his arms.

“You’re okay, baby.”

Her calling him ‘baby’ isn’t something he realised has such an effect on him until now, and the way her voice is so soft, so sweet and caring, has him melting against her.

Her touch and her words are like a balm on his frayed nerves, extinguishing the fire burning under his skin.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He chokes out, like a mantra, into the warm crook of her neck, over and over again, soaking the skin with his tears.

“I love you more.”

She whispers against his head, leaning sitting up a little straighter against him for a sec, but he’s pulling her down just as quick, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone as he cries.

“Hey, listen for a sec.” She mumbles, and waits for him to nod against her before continuing, fingernails scraping deliciously against his scalp as she speaks, her words attempting to calm him down from his spiral.

“‘Member what we said? After we figure all this shit out.. gonna get a house t’gether and get married, yeah? You listenin’?”

He nods shakily as she holds him, her hands brushing his sweaty hair at his temples, her kisses along his forehead keeping him grounded to reality. He swallows hard at her words about the future, his heart seizing up in his chest. But he nods again, desperately needing to hear more. He needs to hear about their future together, because it’s the only thing keeping him together right now, when he feels like nothing’s going right, his only way out is her.

“Yeah-yeah, ‘m listenin’.” He murmurs against her hot skin, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, making sure she was really still there, and this wasn’t some hallucination.

“Good, keep breathin’. And y’know what else? Gonna have so many babies together, yeah? All of our little mini us’s runnin’ ‘round. We’re gonna be so happy, J. Soon as we get outta this mess.”

The very thought of having kids with her has him choking up again.

He can picture it all so clearly, the cozy fish shack by the marsh, a whole football team of kiddos, the little girls beautiful like their mama, getting dressed up all pretty, the rowdy boys the spitting image of JJ, with unruly blonde hair as big blue eyes, tackling and wrestling with each other on the grass outside whilst he tries to teach them to fish.

He can’t help but grip her tighter at the imagery flashing through his clouded mind, ringed fingers digging into her hips.

“Lotsa babies. Lotsa babies. Our babies. Promise?”

She nods with a soft smile, eyes reflecting the same expression as his when his eyes meet hers, glazed over and filled with an emotion unlabelled. Her thumbs swipe at his under eyes, wiping away the hot tears, careful to avoid any gashes or bruises.

“Promise. But none o’ that’s gonna happen if you don’t make it through tonight, baby. You gotta breathe for me.”

Of course she’s exaggerating, and it’s in a hope to bring a little light to the emotional rollercoaster he’s going through right now, and she’s on the same ride internally, but she needs to be strong, for him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his chest heaving against hers as he forces his body to breathe.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out-

He wants that life. With her. A life with her in a homey beach shack, a physical place he can call home, instead of the girl he’s holding in his arms.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out.

But the only way he’s going to get that life is by surviving, together and by getting through tonight, together.

He slowly nods, squeezing her hips again.

“M breathin’.. ‘M breathin’..”

She nods tearfully, sniffling and swiping at her own eyes before he can see them. “Good.. that’s good..” She mumbles in praise, hands still holding his face and stroking at his cheeks with her thumbs gently. “Can you look at me a sec?” She’s careful to keep her touch featherlight over any bruises.

He nods shakily, slowly lifting his tired eyes to look at her, the day weighing heavy on his shoulders and now he’d really let everything out, he was exhausted. His cheeks are still tear stained and his chest heaving. He slowly brings a hand up, cupping the side of her face so he can run his thumb along her tear stained jaw.

“Lookin’.” He mumbles, breath hitching.

“You breathin’ properly now?” She mumbles, jaw moving under his calloused palm as she eyes him sweetly, eyes reflecting all the love he feels for her in this moment.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes slowly raking over her face, taking in all her features like he’d never seen them before, and he’s lost count of how many times he’s got lost in her tonight.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. Stunning in an effortless way, always has been. Like she woke up this morning and was effortlessly gorgeous.

His hand is still on her face, his thumb brushing against her skin.

“Yeah.. yeah baby, ‘m breathin’ normal. You’re makin’ it all messed up ‘gain, though.”

He mumbles, breathing a little heavily out of his nose and it tickles at her skin, a soft smile makes its way onto her face at the look in his eyes, completely enamoured by her.

She lets a breath of laughter slip from her nose, it’s soft and sweet and his eyes visibly soften at the sound, ears perking up.

“You’re so handsome, J.” She mumbles, thumb never stopping it’s comforting ministrations against the damp skin of his cheek.

Her touch on his skin makes him shiver, his mind and body always being so receptive to her. He wants to hide his face when he calls her handsome. He doesn’t think he’s handsome. Hot, sure, he’s been called that many a time. Pretty, meh, makes his heart flutter a little when you mumble it against his ear in bed, but he’d never admit it. But handsome? He’s not handsome.

He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he averts his gaze.

“Don’t. ‘M not handsome..” He mutters under his breath.

Her heart breaks a little at his immediate denial of the compliment.

“You are, J.” She mumbles, hand coming under his jaw to lift his gaze back to hers.

“You are, JJ.” She reassures him again, making sure he really knows it, believes it.

“‘n our babies are gonna be too.”

His heart is doing the fluttering thing again, his stomach flip flopping inside of him as he meets her gaze.

Babies, plural.

Oh, Jesus.

The thought of having little babies running around looking like the perfect mix of the both of you has him reeling. He’s always had a hard time picturing his future, but mostly the father part, after everything he’s been through he could never see it for himself. But with her, the image never seemed so impossible.

He lets out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his rosy cheek, fingers squeezing at her hip again.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She smiles, thumb stroking over a larger bruise at his temple.

“‘N I know things are hard right now, but we’re gonna get through this rough patch together, yeah? We can sleep here, at the lighthouse, we’ll get jobs, then eventually buy a house, get married..” She speaks softly, the wind picking up a little and making her cheeks cold and frost bitten. They’re sixteen and homeless, but all they need is each other.

That night they hold each other closer than ever before, knocking out on the old mattress up in the look out tower, limbs tangled together and content just for the night. JJ had calmed down now, stripped down to just his underwear, her too, pressed up against his good side in bed, head rested against his shoulder as she sleeps soundly, for the first time in what feels like forever.

JJ eventually manages to fall asleep, too, her previous words on his mind all through his slumber, dreaming of Maybank family fishing days, and the beautiful house that he would raise his babies in, the love of his life by his side, dreaming of a future where he wasn’t ashamed of his last name, and everyone he loved dearly shared it with him.

#꒰ jj maybank ꒱ྀི #꒰ bsf!reader ꒱ྀི #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank blurb #jj obx #outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank obx #obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff

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scoupsakakitty · 10 days ago

Text

A Beat of Fate | idol!Woozi x idol!Reader | fluff

Y/N stood nervously in front of the door to Pledis Entertainment’s famous recording studio. Today was a big day—her first session with Woozi, Seventeen‘s talented producer and singer. She had arrived a few minutes early, unsure if that was a good or bad thing. After taking a deep breath, she knocked gently.

No answer.

Slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her eyes widened at the sight before her, mixing boards, flashing buttons, and glowing screens filled the room. It was like stepping into another world.

She couldn’t resist walking closer, her fingers itching to touch something. That’s when she saw them, a pair of headphones resting on the desk. Curiosity got the best of her. She looked around once more to make sure no one was there, then carefully put them on.

Pressing the play button, she was immediately hit by a smooth, catchy beat. It was impossible to stand still. Her head began to nod, her shoulders moved, and soon she was dancing softly to the rhythm. She didn’t even notice her smile growing wider as the music wrapped around her.

What she didn’t realize was that Woozi had arrived moments after her. He stood at the door, arms crossed, silently watching. A small smile tugged at his lips as he saw her lose herself in the music. There was something about her energy, her carefree movements, that completely captivated him.

Then it happened…Y/N spun around and froze.

She ripped off the headphones, her face turning red. “I-I’m so sorry!” she stammered, bowing deeply. “I didn’t mean to touch anything! I just—”

Woozi laughed, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. Really. I’m glad you liked it. Watching you dance to it was actually pretty cool.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait… you’re Woozi.”

“That’s me,” he said with a grin. “And you must be Y/N?”

She nodded quickly, still flustered. “Yes, that’s me. I’m really sorry again. The beat was just so good—I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy to see someone react like that to my work. It means a lot,” he said.

She let out a small laugh, the tension finally easing. “I’ve actually been a fan of Seventeen for a while. I’m not a Carat, but I listen to your songs a lot.”

“Oh? Which ones?”

“I really like ‘Home’ and ‘Adore U.’ They’re on my playlist all the time.”

Woozi’s eyes lit up. “Good choices. Those are some of my favorites, too.”

They shared a smile before Woozi gestured toward the recording booth. “Ready to get started? I can’t wait to hear your voice.”

Y/N nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it!”————————————————————————————-The session was going well. Y/N’s voice fit perfectly with the melody Woozi had created, and every take felt stronger than the last.

At one point, they took a break, and Y/N sat down beside him on the couch. She flipped through her notebook, reading over the lyrics carefully and mouthing the words to herself.

Woozi leaned back in his chair, intending to check his phone, but instead, his eyes drifted to her.

She looked so focused, her brows furrowed slightly as she studied each line. She tapped her pen against the edge of the notebook and occasionally whispered a lyric under her breath, testing how it sounded. Her hair fell softly around her face, and the faint glow of the studio lights made her features look even more delicate.

Woozi couldn’t stop staring.

There was something about her.. something effortlessly beautiful and calming. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but she still managed to leave him completely mesmerized.

Suddenly, Y/N looked up and caught him staring.

Her eyes widened. “What? Is something wrong?”

Woozi blinked and quickly sat up straighter. “No! Nothing’s wrong.”

She tilted her head, clearly not buying it. “Then why were you looking at me like that?”

He hesitated, then smiled softly. “I guess I was just… admiring how focused you are. You look so natural here, like this is where you’re meant to be.”

Y/N’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked down at her notebook with a shy smile. “That’s… really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Woozi grinned. “It’s not just sweet. It’s the truth.”

She gave a quiet laugh and turned her attention back to her lyrics, but Woozi kept stealing glances at her. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t look away.

The rest of the session flew by. Woozi continued to be impressed by her voice and professionalism, and they found themselves laughing and chatting between takes.————————————————————————————-By the end of the day, Woozi couldn’t ignore the feeling growing inside him. He liked being around her more than he expected.

“Y/N,” he said as she packed up her things, “I had a great time working with you today. Would you maybe… like to grab dinner sometime? I’d really like to keep talking with you.”

Y/N paused, surprised, but then smiled brightly. “I’d like that a lot.”

They exchanged numbers, and as she headed toward the door, she turned back and gave him a little wave. “Thanks again for today. I’ll see you soon.”

Woozi stood there long after she left, a grin spreading across his face.

Wow.————————————————————————————-

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tan1shere · 8 months ago

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Bent Over

Ellie williams x female reader !

A/n: YES ANOTHER AM SONG INSPIRED FIC !! but I was listening to teddy picker and the lyrics are just 🤌🏻 and I ofc had to do this with Els cuz she fits Arctic Monkeys the best

Summary: you have to go out for a small family dinner with your girlfriend, Joel, Maria, and Tommy.

Warnings: smut ! Mdni. Bratty reader ? The reader just doesn't give up on trying to tease Ellie. Soft dom Ellie yall !!! 🥰 (I'm so obsessed with soft doms oh my) sub reader, oral (r receiving) swearing ?? Orgasm denial - think that's it <3

Masterlist

You wouldn't consider yourself a very fancy person, but considering you and Ellie had only been going out for 4 months, it was probably about time you met some of her family. The flowy black dress that hug your curves was gorgeous, you had to admit but you weren't use to it at all. Even tho this was Ellies family she still wanted to dress right. She had a lovely suit on. Its one thing you loved about her, how comfortable she was. It's not that you didn't feel comfortable in this dress, you loved it. You hardly got to wear them. You just felt a little unusual. "You look-" Ellie couldn't find the correct words. Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning? She wanted to use them all quite frankly.

"Els you look even prettier." You say sweetly, going over, fixing her tie and her hair just a little. "Youre perfect." She blurts out. And thats all it took to ease all those nerves in you. You had made a plan not to drink too much tonight either. Lightweight was an understatement, one drink and you were gone. So you had to be careful you couldn't fuck this up. Especially when you could get a bit intense when you were drunk, even a little bratty. So it was a must that you didn't do that infront of them.

You and Ellie had arrived to the restaurant not too long after. Seeing, Joel, Tommy, and Maria already there and seated. "Sorry if we are a bit late." Ellie says apologetically, hugging Joel first. "We were just early kiddo, no need to be sorry." He says hugging back. "Well guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n." She says motioning for you to go over. You give them a smile, giving each a polite hug. "It's nice to finally meet you." Maria smiles. "It's nice to meet you all too." You begin to sit down looking at the menu. "Ellie wouldn't stop braggin 'bout you, didn't even know if you were real." Tommy states, to which Ellie kicks his foot under the table. "Ow-" "But it's so good to finally meet you hun." Joel gives a kind smile. You return it but your attention turns to Ellies you could tell she wanted this to go smoothly.

The drinks were coming around, and it's not like you weren't going to have atleast one. Ellies mistake, which she was going to do was monitor it. When she soon saw how fast you were drinking on your second one her eyes widened, grabbing it and setting it down. "Slow down there babe." She whispers slightly, then giving you quite the look. You blink slightly, hadn't even realized the pace you were going at. Oops. "So Y/n, how long have you been living here." Maria asks, to which your beginning tipsy self, didn't hear. "Ehem." Ellie coughs out, bringing you to reality again. "Oh- pardon, uhm since I was about 2." You smile at her. "And have you always lived around here?" Tommy pipes up. "It differs, I haven't lived around here my whole life but different areas." You go for another sip of your drink.

That feeling started to creep up on you, and you hadn't really shown it. Making Ellie oblivious. But you had no control over your next move. Your hand moves to hers that's resting on her thigh, you go to grab it placing it on yours instead. Normal right? Until you smirk slightly. Your hand moves up, and up- "Ellie?" Joel inquires as she suddenly chokes slightly on her food. "Im good I'm good." She gives him a reassuring smile. "But you're not. - Y/n. Stop it." Ellie whispers in your ear, trying to get you to stop drinking anymore, you knew you'd hate yourself tomorrow. She looks at you, her whispering got lower. You just shrug. "Don't." She mouths. But that only made you want to do it more.

Next move was to put your own hand on her thigh, it flexes as soon as she feels it. She lets out an annoyed breath. "How's everyone's food?" Tommy then asks. "I love mine." You say in the most sickly sweet voice. This makes Ellie bite her cheek. "A word?" She begins to get up, grabbing your hand. "Excuse me, you guys. I forgot to ask her something before we left." They all nod. "Alright babygirl, take your time." Joel gives a sweet smile yet again.

"What the hell are you doing." She speaks, all too calmly for your liking, figuring she'd be more pissed off. You knew that's not how Ellie was. She never had to yell to get you to shut up. "Huh?" You think. "I dunno." You smile at her. "You just look so good Els." She scoffs slightly. "Behave." She goes to walk away. "Well maybe you should've kept an eye out." Her movements still, she doesn't say a word. Uh oh. You shut up for a second til her head turns. "Hey baby?" You hum. "Dont be surprised when you get bent over."

Your hands scramble to grip the couch. "I-" She tuts. "Nuh uh, you started this pretty girl. Why don't we just finish it." You go to sit back up but that was clearly no use. "This is basically your fault." You speak, voice muffled by the cushion. Her laugh echoes throughout your guys living room. "Oh, baby, baby baby. I wasn't the one making a fool of myself was I? Hmm?" You stay silent, unable to find the words, as you feel her hand come in between your thighs. Your mouth hangs open slightly. They squeeze together, making her hum. "I told you, but you were dying for it-" "No, i-" her finger slips inside your underwear, slipping into your entrance making you shut right up. "What was that?" Her tone was soft, but her intentions were definitely the opposite. "Nothing, I swear." You let your eyes shut, letting out a slight moan as her finger goes deeper.

"That's what I thought." Then all of a sudden her finger was gone. And just like that, she had you wrapped around her finger. You curse at yourself but it turned you on more how easily she could shut you up. It was hot nonetheless. You sit up, facing her now. Grabbing onto her collar and bringing her in for a kiss. Falling backwards her hands land beside your head, keeping her upright. The kiss got more heated by the second. You slowly begin to grind up into her, knowing she can't resist you. "God you're foul." She smirks against your lips. It only transfers to your lips, but wider. "Know you love me." She just shakes her head, that smirk never leaving.

Her hands pin yours above your head so effortlessly, keeping that kiss going. Until she moves to your neck, then lower. Reaching your cleavage. Her soft fingers go for the straps of your dress and pull them off your shoulders. They move down to the bottom, getting a good grip and tugging it off you. Your nipples harden at the cool air. Ellie bites her lip slightly. "This should be fun." That confused you tons. But oh boy were you not ready for what she had in store.

"Ellie.." You breathe out as you arch your back. "Hmm?" She was antagonizing you. The need to cum had been relentless and she denied it everytime. You were overstimulated to the max, making her enjoy eating you out for the longest time. "Do you know how much-" Suck. "I fucking love you and-" Suck. "This God damn pussy." Your head falls back at her words, her movements. "Ellie just please!" Your begging voice only turned Ellie on more. Her face comes into view. She gives you a fake pout. "But my baby, why should I?" Her smirk was evident and she was awful at hiding it. "Please Ellie just let me cum please." You finally felt slight tears at how desperately you craved it.

Bingo. "Alright, ok. I suppose-" You sit up so fast giving her a look. But it subsides as she almost pulls off all together. Your eyes turn pleading. "You can cum baby, I promise." And Ellie never, broke a promise. You let out a breath of relief as her tongue gets back to work. "F-fuck!" You scream out as you felt your most likely 4th orgasm of that night. But finally she was going to give you that relief. And God did her tongue do absolute wonders. She knew how to get you squirming. "Come on baby, I got you. Let go."

Your breathing was increasing, moans, whimpers were all that could be heard. "Ellie-" You gasp as you feel her fingers enter you. "You're so tight. Fuck." Her words only encourage you more. "Fuck, Ellie!" She hums against you, and youre seeing stars. "There you go good girl, cum on my tongue. Just like that." Your eyes flutter close as you finally do so. Feeling so worn out as you slowly come down from your high. There was some silence as she sat back up. "Gotta say. You were the yummiest thing I had tonight." She smirks down at your tired figure. You let out a dry laugh, having no energy but still finding her funny.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Els."

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us smut #soft dom ellie williams

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b3ach-bunn7 · 1 month ago

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I THINK YOU WERE IN MY PROFILE PICTURE ONCE

Touya is at a party he doesn’t want to be at, when he meets you. Part two here

(Fic based on the song in the title :D)

College!AU, No quirks, fluff

(Highly recommend listening to this while reading )

————————————————————————-

Touya doesn’t really talk to people at parties.

He doesn’t even know why he goes to them. To drink, maybe, or to hook up with someone when it’s been too long since he felt skin on his own. Keigo forces him to show up more often than not, and today is one of those days where he’d rather be sitting in bed watching shitty movies than here.

College is fine. Touya can’t complain about the distance from his father, and it’d take a miracle for him to admit he misses his siblings. Even if he does. Only a little. He misses his mum more, the person she’d turned into once their father was out of the picture. Crazy what wonders a divorce can do.

But he likes the freedom. The monthly apology cheque his father deposits into his bank every month. He visits home during the holidays and most of his friends ended up at the same college as him, so he really couldn’t hate it if he tried. Life is good.

What’s not good is this fucking party. He washes his hand. He used the toilet to get away from a girl a little too eager with her hands, and he’s dreading going back down. You’re sitting on the bottom of the stairs when he notices you. Sitting in his way, actually. He doesn’t recognise you but you look his age. You’re not wearing anything that screams ‘college party’, just an old band shirt and worn out jeans. You’re nursing a can of coke he’d bet money has no alcohol in it and you’re wearing earphones. Tangled ones with washi tape around one of the wires. Cute.

He considers just asking you to move out the way. You two talking is only a waste of his time. But, he’s bored, and he’d much rather be sitting bored here with you than inside with everyone else. Especially miss handsy.

He sits down next to you, on the long steps of the frat house you’ve both found some solace in. You’re leaning on your hand, boredly looking off into the distance, and you don’t notice him at first, not until he reaches over and tugs an earphone out your ear. You turn, face slightly offended until you get a good look at him.

He’s waiting for it. The badly hidden repulsion at the scars on his body, something of that kind. But instead of lingering on those your eyes lock onto his. Your head tilts slightly.

“Your eyes are very blue.”

He scoffs slightly. “Thank you.” He wiggles the earphone in the air. “The party that bad?”

You sigh. “Yes. If you couldn’t tell from my very un-party attire I did not know I was going to be here tonight.”

You shuffle slightly so he can fit in better. “So why are you here?”

You pause your song and take out your other earbud. “Well. My friend is trying to get with one of the boys here. I am here for emotional support, but she ditched me the second we got in here.” You grumbled.

“Good on you for staying.”

“Yeah, well. She’s my ride home.”

Touya snorts and you look at him quizzically. “So. Why are you here?”

Touya adjusts himself, moving just slightly closer to you. You smell like something sweet, like vanilla, and you place your can of coke down on the floor next to you. The party goes on in the rest of the house, but it feels very far away.

“Well. I feel obligated as a college student to show up to at least some of these parties.”He mumbles and you laugh.

“You mean peer pressured like me?”

Touya frowns. “I sound like a loser when you put it like that.”

“If the shoe fits.” He shoves your shoulder and you giggle.

He moves his head slightly to peer at the band name on your shirt. You raise a brow, flicking the side of his head.

“Take me to dinner first.”

“I- Shut up, I’m trying to read your shirt.”

You giggle again and Touya reads properly as you straighten the fabric up for him . ‘Modern Baseball’ it reads, and he nods, impressed.

“Good band.” He says and you raise your eyebrows.

“You gonna ask me to name you five songs now? Their dates of birth?”

Touya snorts a laugh. “No. I look that pretentious?”

“Might do. Maybe it’s all the piercings and the bone white hair.”

He reaches up and wraps a lock of his hair around his finger. It’s getting too long now and he knows his mother would have a field day if she saw. It tickles the back of his neck and he shoots you a look.

“Uhm, I’ll have you know this colour is all natural. And the piercings are cool and they piss off my dad, so it’s a win-win.”

Your mouth opens in shock slightly, and he taps under your chin. “You’ll catch flies.”

You push his hand away. “That’s natural? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. Get it from my mom.”

“Wow. I was gonna say, if it is dyed it looks so healthy. Soft.”

Touya tilts his head at you, letting his hair flop to the side. “You wanna cop a feel?”

You bite back a smile. “Weirdo. No.”

“Shame. It is very soft. I condition.”

“You want a medal for that?”

He looks off to the side, pretending to ponder. “That’d be good. Be nice to bring some metal home to mom.”

You laugh and it makes him nearly smiles again. You have a nice laugh, he decides, and he wants to hear it more.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around?” Touya asks, sitting up slightly.

You lean your head against the wall, looking at him under the low lights on the staircase. “Well, I’m assuming we do different degrees. What do you study?”

“Psychology.”

You perk up slightly at that. “That’s sick. That was one of my choices. I do Education, though, and that’s a whole other campus away.”

Touya hums under his breath. You turn slightly, legs stretching underneath him so you’re sitting more comfortably. He nods slightly. “That makes sense, then. I think I would've remembered you.”

You wince at his line and Touya barks a laugh at your reaction. “Ew! What the fuck was that?”

“What? I think that’s pretty good!”

“No! This is not a disney channel original, never say that to me again!” You groan.

Touya sighs dramatically. “God, fine. I’ll think of something better, I guess.”

You shake your head. You lean your head back again, and Touya’s eyes trail the line of your throat, the gold necklace that sits delicately on your collarbones. You catch him staring and he doesn’t look away.

“You okay there?”

He nods. You nod too. You let your eyes trail over his face shamelessly in turn. He expects you to linger on his scars. He doesn’t blame you. It’s scarred skin that delves down past the shirt he’s got on, from his forearms up to his palms. It was a bad accident at the hands of his father none of his family talk about anymore, and he knows it looks weird.

But you don’t.

You don’t stop for a second on them, instead letting your eyes land on his eyebrow piercing, of all things. You point to your own eyebrow.

“I like this. Your piercing.”

“Thanks.”

“Did it hurt? I want a piercing but I’m scared of the pain.” You say, rubbing your eyebrow like it’s already there.

Touya laughs slightly. “Nah, I didn't feel it. But I have a good pain tolerance, so that might be why."

You frown. “I don’t.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You scowl at him and he grins.

“Look, the place I get it done is good. My friend Shiggy works there, he’s good. If you actually want one, go to his place. It's called the LOV.”

“Aw. For real?”

He nods. “Really for real.”

There’s a faint stench of alcohol that Touya finds always lingers in houses like these. He wonders if you think it’s coming off of him.

“I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.”

Touya studies you for a moment. “You wanna get out of here?”

Touya hopes you can hear the suggestion behind his voice. Judging by the way your eyes flicker across his face just for a second tells him you do. However, the soft smile you give him a second later does not fill him with hope.

“While I am flattered. And interested. I promised my friend I’d stay. And I don’t really do hook ups.”

You smile shyly and Touya nods. He’s not mad about it. This conversation has been the most enlightening thing he’s had in a while.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He nudges you with his elbow and your smile widens.

Touya yawns. It’s getting late and closer to the time he can acceptably call it a day. He wouldn’t call this party a bust. He met you, and he’ll never complain about free drinks. His yawning triggers yours. You rest your head on his shoulder. He acts like it doesn’t surprise him.

“I’m tired.”

“Same.” He rubs his eyes. “How is it only ten?”

You groan, eyes screwing shut. “It’s only ten? I told her we’re leaving at half eleven. That’s another hour and a half.”

Touya huffs a laugh. “There there. Your coke will keep you up. Excellent party drink, by the way.”

You frown up at him. “Shut up. I have class tomorrow, I won’t survive it hungover.”

“Valid. I’m not a fan of alcohol. I want a cigarette, though.”

You scrunch up your nose, eyes still shut. “Ew. Smoking is gross.”

Touya pouts even though he knows you can’t see him. “But it makes my voice sound all raspy and sexy.”

“Cringe.”

“Shut up.”

You sigh. Touya looks down at you and pokes your head. “You falling asleep on me?”

“I think I am. Wake me up at eleven.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “You do realise we are blocking the staircase right now?”

“So?”

“True.”

Touya pauses for a second. “Aren’t you supposed to see her at half past?”

“She’ll be too drunk to remember.”

You fumble around you for a second, almost knocking over your can of coke. He watches as you retrieve your phone. You hold up one earphone to him and out the other in your ear. Touya flicks the tape holding them together. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Don’t ask. College is expensive.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He wordlessly puts it in his ear. The short wires pulls you just a bit closer. You press play. It’s not a song he recognises, but it completely differs from the noise slipping down the corridor from the party. It’s something soft, acoustic, and your eyes droop shut again as you rest your head on his shoulder once more.

“Wake me up at eleven, okay?”

Touya feels something weird in his chest at the fact you trust him so easily. Maybe it’s some form of stupidity on your part, but he’s not complaining. It’s nice. He knows he doesn’t always look so approachable, not with all the scars and piercings and the look on his face that’s usually a mix of bored and brooding. You don’t seem to care though.

“Alright." He says.

Touya isn’t stupid. You won't speak like this again. He knows that you will probably wave goodbye when your friend gets here and that will be all. He’ll be too awkward to ask for your number and you’ll be too shy to ask for his. You will most likely never cross paths again, lost in the crowds of students that litter the halls of the college. All he’ll have to remember you is washi tape and this song he needs to remember to ask you the name of before you leave.

You breathe deeply and Touya thinks you’ve actually fallen asleep. He sinks slightly lower on the step so your neck doesn’t strain so much. A quick glance at his phone. He’s got twenty four minutes until he needs to wake you up. The party still goes on inside, and the alcohol he’s drunk is just enough to give him a light buzz, enough to ignore how the edge of the stair is digging into his ass. A hand comes up and lazily pushes your earbud back into your ear. Touya smiles slightly at the sight. He thinks the normal thing to do here is remove you from his shoulder and excuse yourself, but instead, he lets the dulcet tones of your music soothe him instead.

—————————————————————————

Something small to try and push me out my writers block 😽 I rediscovered the song from the title and it literlaly is the PERFECT oneshot idea

I hope u all enjoy Student!Touya as much as I do cause he is my FAV thing to write. Also this fan art is exactly how I imagine him in my head

As always, leave any fic ideas in my asks and I hope u all enjoyed :P

#oneshot #fluff #b3ach bunn7 #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #bnha touya #dabi/reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi touya #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x female reader #touya i love u #mha touya #touya x reader

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scarletlizzard · 8 months ago

Text

Only Angel

Music Series

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff × fem!Reader

Tags MDNI: smut, fingering, strap on use (R receiving), choking, praise/degradation, alcohol consumption, cheesy shit

Summary: You and your girlfriend Wanda go to a Halloween party at your friends new apartment and, unbeknownst to the two of you, find out her new roommate just so happens to be a familiar face.

Masterlist

A/N: I took this from a fic I wrote ages ago (that shall not be seeing the light of day) and thought it would fit well with this song! Wanda and R live on Avengers Campus, Pietro is alive, everyone is happy, etc etc. Pietro and R are good friends and just want to karaoke! Yelena recently moved to town and found a roommate, and this is where R meets said roomie and sees the apartment for the first time.

I tried to edit it a bit, but I didn't delve too far into it! There may be some massive mistakes or inconsistencies, so if there is.... no, there isn't 🫶 As always, any comments are greatly appreciated 😄 Hope y'all enjoy! Happy Friday and Happy Summerween 🎃

****

You: There is no way I can wear this...

Yelena: You're finee! It's only one night! Hurry up!

You sigh at the texts from your friend and let your eyes travel your body through the mirror in front of you. The amount of skin showing had you beginning to feel self-conscious, had you wanting to take it off and stay home, had you wishing you hadn't given in to your friends idea for the costume.

On top of your head sat a feathered white halo, your hair underneath spilling down your shoulders. Your torso wore a white corset that shows a little more cleavage than you're used to, and strapped to your back were small white feathered wings to match the halo. On your legs, you wore a short white skirt that barely made it mid-thigh, and underneath, you had on white tights.

You were in the middle of debating on taking it all off and not going when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Wanda walks in, closing it shut behind her, mouth gaping as she looks at you. The desire burning in her eyes makes your cheeks flush, you bite your lips, and turn to her hesitantly.

"So.. what do you think?" You ask quietly, giving a little spin for her. Wanda still hadn't said a word. Instead, she just stared at you and shook her head. You blush harder, "No?"

"I-I'm sorry I just... wow..." Is all Wanda can say as she licks her lips and walks closer to you, standing directly in front of you. "You looking fucking amazing, Y/N.." She whispers against your lips, her hands finding their way on your body. "God, you look stunning... I'm not so sure you're an angel, though," she teases.

"Of course I am! I'll be an angel, just you wait and see," you giggle with a smile and rest your hands on hers, pecking her lips and turning away from her to grab something. She raises an eyebrow curiously.

When you turn back around, you're holding a headband with devil horns attached, and you place it on Wandas head, fixing her hair around it. She laughs, and you step back to take in her appearance. The devious look in her eyes seemingly matches her costume. She's wearing a red suit with a black blouse underneath, black stilettos on her feet. The suit fits to Wandas body perfectly, and it's your turn to drool at the sight of her. It didn't seem fair how gorgeous Wanda always is.

"Wands.." You start off and step forward, placing a hand on her chest.

"Hm?" She mumbles, staring down at you hungrily. Her emerald eyes darken.

"If we don't leave now, we're never going to make it out of this room," You swallow hard, and she chuckles lowly, wrapping an arm around your waist. Wanda can hear your thoughts loud and clear, and she nods, agreeing. She smirks and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"After you.." Her voice is low, and she holds her arm out for you to walk in front of her. You take a deep breath and walk out into the hallway, feeling Wandas hand immediately on your lower back.

Seeing Wandas reaction definitely calmed you down. She always made you feel beautiful... part of you was still a little self-conscious, but you try to ignore the little voice nagging in the back of your mind and just enjoy the night. A loud whistle being blown brings you back to reality, and you look up to see Pietro and Natasha standing by the car.

"Holy shit!" Natasha says, watching you walk closer and laughing in disbelief. You blush hard and look up to see Wanda smirking.

"Okay, okay," you roll your eyes, a smile playing on your lips as you look to Pietro. "Nice costume," you eye him up and down playfully.

"I know, I look hot, don't I?" Pietro smirks back and flexes, showing off his muscles. He's wearing a white tanktop with the word 'LIFEGUARD' printed bold across his chest along with red shorts, a red whistle around his neck, and white paint that looks like sunscreen on his nose. Pietro puts on the sunglasses he held and blows the whistle that hangs around his chest again. You can't help but laugh.

"Where's your costume, Nat?" Wanda asks and raises an eyebrow at her. The four of you get into the car. You sit in the backseat with Pietro.

"I'm just the driver tonight.. Maria and I are going to take her nephew out around the neighborhood," she says, and Wanda nods, glancing at you in the mirror.

"That sounds really nice," Wanda smiles at her.

"Hey, do you think she grew those herself?" Pietro whispers to you, pointing to the horns sat atop Wandas head. The two of you burst out into a fit of laughter as you nod along.

"You're going to have your hands full tonight," Natasha smirks at Wanda as she drives and nods to the backseat.

"Yes, I am..." Wanda sighs with a smile and watches as you and Pietro crack jokes, making each other laugh. Her heart warms at the sight.

It's dark outside as Natasha walks the three of you to Yelenas building. People run around in the streets in their costumes, kids laughing and yelling as they drag their guardians from place to place. The streetlights send a warm glow on the streets.

"Alright, here it is," Natasha says after you had entered the building and walked up a few sets of stairs. You hear muffled music and chatter as you look back at Wanda. She gives you a smile and a playful wink before following you and Natasha inside.

The apartment was big and spacious, filled with people in costumes all around. Halloween decorations plastered the walls, and the lights were low, glowsticks and pumpkin lights lighting up the living room where you noticed a makeshift dance floor. You passed a few couples making out as you walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. There was only a handful of people in there, one of them being Yelena.

"Oh my god, finally, you guys made it!" She hugs Natasha, who says goodbye to Yelena, then to you, telling Wanda she would be back to pick them up later or whenever you needed. Pietro wastes no time in grabbing a red cup and filling it with liquor before heading to the living room. You laugh at his enthusiasm and grab Wandas hand, entwining your fingers with hers.

"Yelena, this is crazy! I love the apartment, though... from what I can see anyway," you laugh, and she hands you and Wanda a red cup filled with alcohol.

She nods and sips her own drink, in a tipsy state already. "Mm, thank you! The roommate went to grab some more ice, but she'll be back soon. You guys will love her! She's the best."

Wanda nods and sips her drink, drinking half of it in one gulp. You squeeze her hand once before letting go to grab some of the shot glasses you saw on the counter. After filling them up, the three of you take a shot, feeling yourself become looser. Yelena leans in to you as she sees someone talking to Wanda.

"Y/n, you guys look so good. Seriously, the way Wanda was looking at you? You're welcome," she smirks, not so subtlely, and cheers with you before taking another shot.

You take in Wandas appearance again and sigh, looking back to your friend. "God, thank you so much," you fake a prayer with your hands, getting a loud laugh from Yelena. Then, the two of you are taking another shot. You and Wanda fill your cups and follow Yelena to the crowd of people in the living room.

This was so different from the Stark parties you had been to on campus. For one, the crowd was a lot younger. You started to dance with Yelena, the music was loud and the bodies around you were drunk and sweaty.

Wanda stares at you with dark eyes from the side of the room as your body moves against Yelena. She stood there leaning against the wall, sipping the entirety of her drink as she watched carefully. You and Yelena laughed and spun each other around, jumping up and down and moving freely together. You felt the hour go by.

You had just finished your drink when you felt a pair of hands on your hips. Goosebumps appeared on your arms, and Yelena leaned in to you, "I think I saw my roomie! I'll be right back!" She yells in your ear, and you nod, feeling the hands grip tighter.

The body behind you begins to dance, and you put your hands on top of hers, moving up and down her body to grind against her. You hear Wanda groan, and you grin, turning to face her. Putting your arms around her neck, you pull her closer to you. "Got tired of watching?" You giggle, looking up to meet her hungry eyes.

"Mm, no, never. I could watch you all night, angel," Wanda speaks the last part against your ear. You bite your lip to hold in a moan as she bites your lobe. You lean up and press your lips to hers desperately, feeling her lips curve upwards into the kiss. Her hold is tight on you, and you feel her tongue slip onto your mouth, the strong taste of liquor swirling around. After a few moments, you take her bottom lip between your teeth, pulling away with a 'pop' and receiving another low groan from Wanda.

"I'm thirsty.." You pout, and Wanda chuckles, nodding.

"Dancing for an hour straight will do that to you. Come on, baby," she smiles and takes your hand, guiding you to the kitchen. Your lips were red and puffy, and you couldn't keep your hands off Wanda. You smacked her butt playfully as you walked into the kitchen, the two of you laughing drunkenly.

"Y/n?" You hear a familiar voice say, and you stop abruptly. Wanda wraps her arms around you from behind and kisses your cheek, not being able to resist keeping her hands off of you as well.

"Y/n!" Yelena says and holds up her cup. "This is my roomie, Kate Bishop!" She points to the girl in the all black suit with dark hair who is staring at you with a surprised expression.

Wanda chuckles and tilts her head, grabbing a drink from Yelena as she steps away from you. "Kate Bishop.. why does that name sound familiar?" She turns to you with a smile, but seeing the look on your face makes it quickly fade.

Your face was pale, cheeks red from the alcohol coursing through you as you stand there completely still.

"Wow, um, you look amazing." Kate says, eyes shamelessly taking you in. "It's been a while, though..." She clears her throat and sips her drink awkwardly.

"Oh my god, wait, you two know each other?" Yelena smiles as her and Wanda stare at you.

"Uh, yep..." Is all you can manage to get out, filling a red cup up with the nearest bottle of vodka. Wanda frowns and moves forward to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. "What's wrong, angel?" She whispers in your ear.

"We um.. dated for a while," Kate sighs, hand in her pocket as she sips her drink. You close your eyes and sigh, looking up to see Wandas eyes burn red. It suddenly clicked to her why the name sounded familiar. You had told Wanda previously about your past flings with Kate.

"Kate Bishop..." Wanda mumbles to herself and turns to face the girl.

Yelenas mouth drops. "No fucking way!" She starts to laugh hysterically as she looks between the three of you.

"Yep.." You say again, bringing the cup to your lips to taste the vodka.

"It was a long time ago," Kate shrugs and walks towards the two of you, boldly patting Wanda on the shoulder. "It's nice to see you again, Y/N. Really nice..." Kate says and looks you up and down with a wink before leaving the room. Wanda feels her shoulder burn where Kate had touched it, and you both look to Yelena.

"Well... I need to, uh..." Yelena says and puts her red cup up to her mouth before quickly ignoring yours and Wandas gaze, leaving the kitchen. There's a moment of silence between the two of you as you stand there.

"Wanda... I had n-" You start, but Wanda cuts you off by grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. She pulls you down the hallway, past the dance floor to the other side of the apartment where the bathroom was. When she closes the door behind you, you open your mouth to speak again.

This time, you're cut off by her lips on yours and your back hitting the bathroom door hard. Your hands are in her hair, and her arms are by your head, trapping you. Wanda presses her body firm against yours, and you let out a quiet moan when you feel her strap press on you through her pants.

"I am going to fuck you so hard that everyone out there is going to know my name," Wanda threatens agaisnt your lips before traveling to kiss your neck. Your hands tug at her hair and you feel yourself get wet at her words.

"W-Wanda, we shouldn't." You moan out, body betraying your words. She kisses down your chest, leaving a mark on the top of your breast.

Wanda chuckles lowly, "I'm sorry, did you think I was giving you a choice?" She takes your hands and pins them above you, smirking at the gasp that escapes your mouth. "So what's it going to be.." her lips ghost yours as you stare up at her with seemingly innocent eyes. "Are you going to be good, and take what you deserve?"

You can only nod in response, your words slipping from your mind. Her grip on your wrists tighten, green eyes peering into yours. "Y-yes..." You finally spit out, your thighs clenching together harder as you feel yourself even more turned on.

"That's right, angel.. You're gonna be my good girl and take my cock," she whispers in your ear and lets go of your hands. You nod your head again quickly, needing to feel her inside of you, needing any type of relief from the strong ache between your legs.

Wanda picks you up and lets you wrap your legs around her hips. You cup her face in your hands and kiss her passionately and sloppily as she brings you to the bathroom counter. You feel the coolness of the counter against the back of your thighs and the mirror on your back. Wanda continues to kiss you desperately, and she begins to roll her hips against you. Groaning into her lips, you pull away and move your hands to help her take off your skirt. You watch with an even stronger aching as she unbuckles her belt.

You can't help but pull her back to you, and she smirks at your eagerness. You unbutton her suit and untuck her blouse, rubbing your hands against her soft skin underneath. Wanda kisses you again, lips desperate for contact. You gasp into her mouth when you feel her hands rip your tights, pulling them off of you quickly.

"Tsk, Tsk... my little slut... you wanted this, didn't you, angel?" Wanda chuckles, fingers tracing your wet folds. She slides two digits in easily, groaning at how wet you were for her. "Not wearing any panties... you knew I'd be fucking you tonight, didn't you?" She uses her other hand to pull harshly at your hair, forcing you to look up at her. "Answer me, slut."

"Y-Yes!" You whimper out, hands gripping onto her shirt. "I wanted you to fuck me," you confess, and she chuckles darkly as she pumps her fingers faster.

"I know you did, my perfect girl. My angel, hm?" Wanda praises, and you can't help but let your hands slide underneath her blouse again to scratch at the covered skin.

After a minute of listening to you moan for her, she takes out her fingers, ignoring your whines at the sudden empty feeling. Her hand grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open. "Taste yourself for me," Wanda sticks her two fingers in your mouth and watches as you suck them clean, feeling your tongue swirl around her digits as you taste yourself.

She practically growls at the sight and removes her fingers. Her hands leave you momentarily to slide down her pants enough to pull out her thick strap. Grabbing your hips in one hand and her cock in the other, she lines herself up at your entrance, moving the tip up and down your slit, circling it over your clit teasingly.

"Please, please, Wanda!" You beg, pulling her as close to you as you can. She smirks at your neediness, at your desperation.

"You're lucky we're short on time," she comments, "And you're lucky I can't control myself," Wanda adds, feeling the primal need to fuck you immediately. She was just as desperate for you. Before you could say anything you feel yourself being stretched out as she slides the plastic cock inside of you.

"Oh fuck!" You moan out loudly. Wandas arms move to wrap around you, her hands gripping your ass as you wrap your legs around her to pull her hips closer.

Your arms are wrapped around her neck as she starts to move, pumping herself in and out of you. Wanda groans at the sight of you, the noises you were making for her. Your breath is hot against her face before pulling her into a kiss. Wanda began thrusting harder at the feeling of your lips on hers and the sounds of your skin slapping together filled the small room.

"Thats it, take my fucking cock, angel.. I want everyone to know who this sweet cunt belongs to," Wanda chuckles lowly, her accent coming out thick. "Let me hear you, tell them who owns your perfect cunt,"

"Oh, god! Wanda! F-fuck you own me," you moan out and lean forward to put your head against her shoulder. Your lips attach to her neck, biting down on open skin. You can't help but smirk at the sound of Wanda moaning. The feeling of your wet lips kissing and nipping at her neck seemed to send her into a frenzy.

All too soon, Wanda is pulling out of you. She grabs you off of the counter and, in one quick motion, turns you around to face the mirror. Her hands make quick work in removing the now ruffled wings off of you, pulling your corset down just enough to see your breasts spill out from the top of it. When she's satisfied with the sight of your disheveled state, you feel her strap fill you up again. Her hands grip your hips as she begins pounding into you mercilessly.

"Wanda! Ohh feels so good, fuck.. stretching me out!" You manage to get out and she moans, moving one hand off of your hips to reach forward and grab your neck. She pulls you up roughly to have your back pressing against her front. Her fingers tighten around your neck as you feel her lips against your earlobe.

"I want you to watch..." She speaks lowly into your ear, staring into your eyes through the mirror. "I want you to watch as I fuck you and fill you up with my cum. You're going to watch as you fall apart, as you beg for me," Wanda moans in your ear and keeps her hand wrapped around your neck. Her other arm wraps around your chest, her fingers squeezing your sensitive nipples, hand groping your breasts that bounce with every thrust as she drills into you.

"Look at you, angel... Tits out, taking my cock in the bathroom while everyone can hear you being a slut for me. This is how it's supposed to be, isn't it? God, you are perfect. My only angel.. " Wanda never got tired of watching you like this, so needy and messy for her. Your lips parted as you tried to breath with her hand cutting off your air every couple seconds, tears running down your cheeks as she fucked you relentlessly, taking you closer and closer to an orgasm.

You can feel Wanda deep inside you, driving in and out of you at a steady pace. She's hitting that one spot that drives you crazy, and you know you won't last any longer. What really sends you over the edge is the look on Wandas face. Her dark green eyes stare intently at your body, looking into your eyes as she pants heavily and moans your name.

"Fuck angel. You're going to make me cum! I'm going to fucking cum, going to fill you up just like you deserve, baby. Fuck, fuck!" Wanda growls as her thrust become sloppy and you moan in response, nails digging into her arm as you grip onto her.

"Me too, Wands! Please let me cum, please," you moan, vision becoming blurry with tears as you reach your climax.

"Cum with me, angel.. fucking cum all over my cock, let me hear you when you do. Tell them one more time who owns you," she pants out and latches her lips to your shoulder. "God, take it, take it!" Wanda moans against your skin, biting down hard as she cums.

"Wanda!" You scream her name loudly, both of your moans echoing off the walls as you finally get the relief you were looking for. Your knees go weak as you let go for her, pleasure shocking your core as you wet her cock just as she wanted. Wandas grip is tight on you as your body fails you, holding you in place as she fucks you through your orgasm. She slows to a stop, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly.

"That's it, that's it, I've got you.." She whispers in your ear, holding you tightly against her and kissing the side of your face and neck. "You did so good for me, angel, that's it.."

After a moment, she pulls out slowly, smirking at the hiss that leaves your lips. You turn around, seeing the familiar devious glint in her eyes. "Get on your knees," she commands, and you can't help but obey. You go to your knees, there in the bathroom, face to face with her strap that was covered in your arousal. "Clean it up for me, angel," Wanda smiles softly, not matching the look behind her green eyes.

Her fingers weave into your hair as you take her cock in your mouth, tasting yourself, gagging as she slides it in further to the back of your throat. Wanda moans as she watches, drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest as you blink through those innocent eyes again. Although you and Wanda both knew, you were anything but. Wanda may have been wearing the horns, but she knew you were a devil in between the sheets. You were enjoying this just as much as she was.

"Just like that baby, every last drop," Wanda smirks down at you and lets you suck her strap for a few more moments. "Good job, you did so good for me," she praises you and removes her cock, tucking it back into her pants and buckling her belt back up.

Wanda wastes no time in helping you up and getting you cleaned up, praising you with more words of affirmations and plenty of kisses. The smile on your face as she did so made her chest warm all over again. She watches you slide up your skirt with shaky hands, chuckling at your the way your legs tremble slightly as she tucks her own shirt back in.

"Come here, my angel," Wanda smiles and takes off her suit jacket, wrapping it around you. You slide your arms inside the sleeves and breathe in deeply, feeling not only the fabric, but her comforting scent wrap around you.

"Thank you," you giggle and rest your hands on her stomach, leaning up to kiss her.

****

You and Wanda were still in the bathroom, making out. You sat on the counter again, and she was standing between your legs. A knock at the door has you groaning as Wanda pulls away from your lips.

"I think we've held it up long enough. Let's go have some fun," she smiles and kisses your forehead, picking you up and lifting you off of the counter. Wanda had literally fucked you stupid. Your legs were still shaking when she set you down and even though she had done her best to clean you up, you still looked a mess in the mirror.

Wanda opens the door and holds your hand as you walk into the hallway. A few people standing there are staring at you with some wide eyes and giggles and a few of them smirking. One of those with wide eyes was Kate Bishop herself, unable to meet your own eyes. You smile to yourself, blushing deeply and wrapping yourself around Wandas arm. You didn't have to look up at her to know she had a crooked smile on her lips.

A couple hours later and an unknown amount of shots later, you were currently in front of everyone on the makeshift 'stage' with Pietro. Half of the crowd had left, but you and Pietro were still going strong. He stood next to you, shirt gone and wearing your wings and halo with a microphone in his hand. You had one arm wrapped around his shoulder to keep yourself from falling, now wearing his sunglasses and red whistle around your neck.

Bringing your microphone to your lips, you point at Wanda, who was stood in the back, still watching your every move. "This one -hiccup- goes out to my girlfriend! Shout out -hiccup- Wanda!" Your words slur together, and Pietro nods his head. Wanda can't help but laugh and smile at your drunken state, shaking her head.

"Yeah, and I dedicate it to that girl I made out with earlier," he points to a random brunette, and you hear a loud, "Whoo!" and "Yes!" From Yelena, who was, barely, standing in front of the two of you, recording on her phone.

You and Pietro wrap an arm around each other, both of you swaying back and forth as you belt into the microphones drunkenly.

"Baby, not a day goes by, that I'm not, into you!" You're practically yelling into the microphone, but you still point to Wanda, serenading her beautifully, in your mind, at least. You and Pietro start to jump as the song picks up.

"I should be over all the butterflies, but I'm into, I'm into you..."

The two of you barely finish the song before Pietro is falling down, Yelena laughing hysterically and still recording.

"This is amazing!" She slurs and watches as you trip and fall right over Pietro. The three of you are in fits of laughter as Wanda walks over and nudges her brother, then picks you up.

"Alright, alright.. you guys got to do your karaoke.." Wanda is laughing and holding you up at your waist. You just stare at her, smiling and playing with her hair. "You're sooo pretty," you draw out your words with a giggle and bat your eyelashes, poking the horns on her head. She scrunches her nose playfully at you, "And you are so silly," she giggles back.

"Wait! Y/N, we didn't get to sin -" Pietro starts but is cut off by Natasha walking up.

"Nope! Get your asses in the car," she claps, pointing to the door. You and Pietro pout for a little bit but finally agree to leave. Yelena throws herself at you, hugging you tightly and telling you goodbye. Wanda finally pulls you away and wraps her shoulder around your waist to practically carry you down to Natashas car.

As you lay in the backseat with your head in Wandas lap, you feel her fingers running through your hair, playing with the soft strands. With your own hands, you gripped tightly onto her free hand. Pietro was still singing in the front seat next to Natasha, who was just laughing and shaking her head. Her and Wanda talked about the night, but you could only focus on Wanda, staring up at her. The streetlights shone through the window in flashes, lighting her face every once in a while. You watch as she talks, listening to her accent wrap around certain words. The way her fingers stroked your hair softly. Then suddenly she was staring down at you and you freeze as she smiles.

"You doing okay, angel?" She whispers, and you nod, watching her lips. Wanda leans down and gives you a sweet kiss, continuing to stroke your hair.

By the time Natasha pulled into the garage, you had passed out in the backseat. Pietro wanted to wake you to 'continue the party', but Wanda firmly told him no. She lifts you up in her arms, holding your body to her chest.

"She's an angel," Natasha teases and laughs at your sleepy state. "You got her?" Natasha asks, and Wanda nods, looking down at you in her arms. "I got her," she smiles and chuckles at your sleepy nature, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "My only angel," Wanda sighs quietly.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda x you #marvel one shot #marvel fic #Spotify

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