#the voice in the back of my head: don't put him on your mains list dont put him on your mains list dont-

[lunarbun-ships]

frothing at the fucking mouth why is he doing this to me rn i just want to SLEEP

[seresinhangmanjake]

What if feyd's wife brought up the idea of having another child? How will he react? I loved his boy and all of your fics btw. You're a great writer!!!

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: You want another baby, but after what happened with your first pregnancy and birth, Feyd is hesitant. 

Warnings/Notes: Thank you for your kind comments, anon. I hope you like this! Mentions of smutty stuff but not anything extreme. I'm still gonna go with 18+ though. I don't think there's anything else. Typos, I'm sure. This is also part of the His series, but you don't have to read it first.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your bottom lip is worn raw. You’ve spent three hours nibbling on the delicate skin as you stare at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise. When it finally does, your little boy stirs in the bed between you and Feyd—nightmares, poor thing—but he quickly settles back into sleep, his lips parted with light snores. 

Iron seeps onto your tongue. Swiping your finger over your mouth, it pulls back coated in red. “Wonderful,” you mutter.

“What did you do?” Your husband asks, making you gasp and shoot up in bed. He chuckles, his brow drawing close at your skittishness. Careful not to disturb Fionn, he pulls back the covers and walks over to your side. His palm cups your chin. His thumb runs over your lip, collecting a droplet before sticking it in his mouth with a wicked grin that makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Morning,” he says, leaning in to kiss you. 

You press a peck to his lips. “Morning.”

“That’s all I get?” 

You debate not doing this, not dragging down another morning, but you can’t help it. It's an impulse at this point. Unable to be contained. 

“I want to talk about it,” you say.

Feyd’s features solidify into stone and he straightens his spine. “We already talked about it,” he replies before turning for the bathroom. You hop up and follow after him, closing the door behind you as Feyd twists a knob so water can cascade into the deep tub. 

“I want to talk about it again.” Ignoring you, he puts his hand under the water to test its warmth. “I’m not going to let it go.”

“No, you’re not, are you.”

“You honestly don’t want another one?”

“What I want is my wife alive,” he says as he strips off his silken sleep pants. “I already had to watch you die once.”

“I didn’t die.”

Feyd’s chest inflates. He’s been holding in an explosion for days and you don’t know how long he can manage that. “Fionn won’t be up for hours,” he says, getting into the tub and finding a comfortable position. “Come join me.”

“Feyd–”

“Clothes off.”

You sigh and slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders until it falls to your feet. With your hand in Feyd’s, you step into the pool of heated water and get cozy with your back to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as he takes hold of both of your hands, his fingers playing with yours. 

“I didn’t die,” you remind him, keeping a softness to your voice. You tilt your chin back and plant a kiss on his jawline to ease the truth of your argument so it doesn’t induce a bout of rage. You’re good at that, after years of dealing with his fits. 

“I thought you did,” he says. “For a moment, I felt it as if you did.”

“I know, but–”

“What if it were me?” he says, and your heart leaps into your throat at the suggestion. “Would you want me doing something again that almost killed me the first time?”

That's not exactly fair, and you want so desperately to spit those words right back at him. It’s not as if you haven’t had to catch your breath once or twice when he goes up against a prisoner who has not yet lost the skills that came from years of training on their home planet. You’ve cleaned up a few nicks on your husband’s skin from a blade, and yet, he continues to fight without you saying a word about it. Even if it went against your wishes, he would continue. 

“I watch you in the arena all the time,” you tell him.

“That’s not the same. You know I’m going to survive,” he says, and you hate that you can’t argue his point because you do know that. He’s too skilled. The nearest he’s come to serious harm—harm that would not have even come close to resulting in his death—was against an Atreides. And while it was a harder fought duel, there was nothing sloppy about it. Feyd still ended the life of that man with the beautiful maneuvers of a practiced warrior.

Reaching for the last bit of logic you can, you say, “You don’t know that I won’t survive.”

Your husband groans, a rumble that vibrates against your back. “I don’t know that you will,” he says. “Don’t you understand that? I need you. Fionn needs you.”

“Feyd–”

“I love you and you would dare to leave me. You’re fighting me on this for the second time now.”

You swallow hard, trying to remove the lump in your throat, before you twist your body so you’re facing him. The water sloshes over the edge of the tub as your legs straddle his hips, but neither of you give the mess and ounce of attention. Your fingers weave at the back of his neck. 

“I’m not leaving you,” you tell him. “I’m not leaving Fionn. I just want to bring more into our lives.”

“We don’t need more,” he says. “I don’t want more.”

His words poke a needle through your chest and into pumping organ behind your ribcage. “At all? You’ve never imagined it? A brother for Fionn? A little girl you could train to be as strong as you?”

Feyd’s eyes fall from yours. His fingers tighten at your waist. “Stop it,” he demands, and by the way he continues to avoid your stare you suddenly see that he has, in fact, thought about it; that it has been considered. All this time, you’ve assumed he brushed off the idea without so much as bothering to picture what another child would be like for your little family. But no. You were wrong. And you wonder what images of that future he’s conjured up in that mind of his. What scenarios he’s denied the possibility of simply because he is scared. 

“You have imagined it.”

Feyd huffs. “So what?”

“What’s it like?”

“Without you?” he asks. “Miserable.”

“And with me?”

Your husband takes a deep breath that exhales as a slow but heavy stream of air through his nose. “I told you to stop.”

“I can’t.” You press your forehead into his. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in closer. “Feyd, I can’t. Can’t we just try?”

Feyd leans back and looks up at you, examining your features with an intensity that suggests he doesn’t already know the shapes and planes of your face by memory. It brings forth a blush that heats your cheeks; a blush he’s always able to work out of you, one way or another, even after nearly seven years together. It makes you want to make your baby right now, and if he agreed, and if your son was not sleeping just in the other room, you would. You’d touch him and harden him and slide down onto him, writhing and shifting your hips until he was groaning and filling you. 

“Please,” you whisper. Your hands plant on his cheeks. Your thumbs run across the sharp edges of his cheekbones and you move in to capture his lips in a kiss that then travels to his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Please,” you say between more kisses. You say it again, punctuating the word with a little nibble on his collarbone. 

Feyd shifts underneath you. You can feel him grow thicker against your core. With a suck in of air, he pushes your hips down harder onto his lap, but then he holds you still. And it’s for the best. You weren’t trying to start something anyway, not here, not now. 

“We’ll talk to the doctor,” he says as you rest your head into the crook of his neck. Relief floods your whole body. “But if he says no, then it’s not happening. And if he says yes but then something happens to you, I’m killing him, so you should be prepared for that.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you swear to him. And you do believe that, genuinely, in your heart of hearts. “And I’m always prepared for you to end someone's life. I wouldn't have married you if I thought you'd be any different.”

Feyd almost chuckles. “You didn't have a choice in marrying me.”

“Yes, but I wanted to marry you anyway,” you tell him. “Murder and all.”

---

A/N: thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. If you have any ideas or thoughts on the His series, I am open for requests.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 16

16th — toys, Lando Norris

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

"What about you honey, how is work going?" Lando's mom asks from the other end of the table.

"It's going great actually, not to jinx it but I might be getting a-" You gasp when you feel the vibrations inside you.

"A what?" His dad questions.

"Go on my love, tell them." You glare at your boyfriend that thinks it's so funny to tease you right now.

"A p-promotion. You clear your throat trying to get yourself together.

As Lando's parents congratulate you in your head you're just thinking that this was such a terrible idea. It seemed so exciting when you first talked about it but not so much in this moment as you rub your thighs together feeling the little egg vibrator deep inside you. To his parents he seems to be just casually playing with his phone, but you knew the app he had open like the back on your hand and every time you see his thumb moving up you press your lips together to hold in a moan.

You try to keep the conversation going but it's getting harder as you can feel your panties get soaked by the second. You sneak some glances at him but he just looks so relaxed and chill like he's not making a mess out of you as he draws random shapes with his finger on the screen.

After some time you're practically dripping on your chair and you don't know how much more you can take before you either give into the pleasure and let yourself cum in the middle of the restaurant or just sneak a hand between your legs and pull the toy out.

"I'll be right back." You politely excuse yourself deciding to go for a third safer option.

You walk to the bathroom, struggling to walk normally with your legs just wanting to give in, but as you're closing the door a hand stops it. Lando steps inside locking the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" He teases. "This is not what we agreed."

"I know, I just." You whimper, legs shaking. "I can't take it anymore."

"C'mon baby, I know you can." He steps closer, phone on his hand making the vibrator hit its highest setting only to drop it down to nothing.

"Lando, please..." You plea letting yourself lean back against the wall.

"What is it?" He smirks. "Do you or do you not want to cum?"

"I do..." You bite your lip as the vibrations go back up.

"Then come back to the table." His voice is dark and full of lust.

"I can't..." You moan taking his free hand under your dress to feel your drenched underwear. "Do you think I can go back like this?"

"Damn baby, I didn't know you were this wet." Pulling your panties to the side he runs a finger between your folds pushing it inside you until he feels the toy vibrate against his fingertip.

You hold his shoulders for support, moaning loudly without caring if everybody can hear you outside this bathroom, all you want is to cum and by the way he moves the vibrator inside you it won't take long.

“Don’t you just love it, darling?” His eyes didn’t leave your swollen core. One huge sweet smile painted on his face, such a contrast from all of the scenarios in his head. “Do you love me doing this to you?”

You could only answer him with a rapid nod. Head unable to make up a word, making your mouth to just let out countless whines and mumbles. Your hips moved slightly, getting closer to the toys in hope for them to get you closer to your high. Again.

“Greedy baby wanted more of my toys, hm?” He pressed the vibrator harder to your clit as he moved the silicone dildo faster.

Your screams echoed through the walls, your back arched to the wall. Your sight blurred as your eyes started to prick with tears. “I– I’m close, Lan. I– Want you please. Want to cum on you.” You’re just spitting every word you can make at this point.”

Lando giggled as he looked at you pleading. He put the toys beside on the sink as he try to undo his belt, “And my princess will get whatever she wants.”

Once his pants is off, he grabbed your waist to flip you against the sink, your face now facing the mirror inthe bathroom. Butterfly kisses were left by him on your shoulder blade as he pushed into you in one push. Moans and groans merged together as your warm walls wrapped him tightly.

“I’ve fucked you with that toy yet you’re still this tight– Fuck.” He bit the skin where your neck and shoulder met, making a mark to bloom there. 

He grunts, thrusting deeper into you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the small bathroom. The mirror fogged up from your combined breaths and exertion.

"You love this, don't you? Love being filled by me, loved by me," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "Tell me how much you need it, baby. Tell me how much you crave my cock."

His words are filthy, but they only spur you on, making your inner walls clench around him tighter. You're so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"That's it, scream for me," Lando commands, slamming into you with brutal force."

With a loud groan, Lando hilts himself fully inside you, his release pulsing hotly against your cervix. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as aftershocks wrack through his body.

"Fuck...you feel incredible, Honey," he rasps, placing soft kisses along your sweat-slicked skin. "Love you so damn much..."

He slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the loss. With gentle hands, he turns you around to face him, cupping your face tenderly. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that escaped during your intense coupling.

"My beautiful girl," Lando murmurs adoringly, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

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[drama-glob]

Since I've been seeing some criticism about Ozzie not speaking up first or more during the trial to help Blitz and his team, there are a few things I'd like to point out.

For one:

Ozzie didn't seem to know that Blitz/I.M.P. were going to be on trial or else I'm sure he would have warned Fizz because that is a jarring thing for your boyfriend to see on live TV, and given the level of communication and love that these two have, it seems highly unlikely and thus means Ozzie was shocked to see them too and given very little time to prepare. :/ Speaking of time, I clocked it from when Blitz enters to court to when Satan gives his sentencing, and it's ~4min 47seconds, which includes listing the charges, Andrealphus and Vassago squaring off, Striker's part, the Sins squabbling, and Satan's outburst, so a lot of things happening in a small time frame, all while Ozzie needs to think of a way to say something in Blitz's defense without implicating himself since he more or less knew they were doing something illegal based on what Stolas said. (What's unfortunate too is that Ozzie's text messages even say that these trials don't usually last long, so the roughly 5min one for Blitz/I.M.P. could have been a long one O_O).

Also, Blitz technically already admitted that he was given the book, which is still as crime and probably would have ended the trial right there had Andrealphus not kept saying he was lying so he could lay on the accusations. -_-

Something else to consider:

Ozzie seems to have a tell whenever it involves scheming or something he's nervous about where his voice gets a higher pitch at one point or another, so being grilled on the stand is likely to bring that out. :/ Who would think that the Deadly Sin who is big on honesty and communication isn't the best liar? -_-

The only reason why he probably could get away with the "Fizz is just my business partner" lie is because he's had to tell it for ~10yrs, and even then they were still called the worst-kept secret in all of Hell. I mean, do I need to remind you of this?

(It's a good thing Fizz said something because Ozzie was like a deer in headlights right there XD ).

Plus:

Ozzie has three heads, so while he may be able to put on a poker face for his main one, he can't seem to hide how his Ram and Bull express themselves (as indicated by the first picture), which only makes it that much harder to not implicate himself or deny that Blitz and Stolas weren't doing something illegal.

Going back to the first picture, I love how his Ram and Bull heads have big eyes in surprise (it seems) because he's like "What? You know Blitz too?! Oh, thank Lucifer! You can vouch for him too and reduce the chance of questions coming at me/be my backup." I also love Bee's appreciative look too that her bestie Ozzie has her back and listened to her suggestion. ^_^

The last thing I want to say is that I saw some people thinking that Satan would have taken it easy on Ozzie because he's a royal, and while he may not kill him, you know who isn't a royal? Fizz, and Satan made it abundantly clear he thinks imp lives (and other lower class demons') have no value but to serve, so killing him or even punishing Ozzie's people doesn't seem like a ridiculous thing to believe Satan would do because he has definitely extended his reach beyond Wrath in Lucifer's absence. :/

[syluss-karaoke-teacher]

Hello first timer here. May I please request for The 4 LADS with a selective mute MC wherein MC finally says their names for the first time ever

Hello to my first ever request!! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ Very interesting, I have never tried this one before! I did some research and hope I can do it justice ^^

HCs under the cut for Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus

Content: SFW, fluff, mild canon spoilers in Zayne's part (main storyline released thus far), reader is MC, gender neutral MC, use of petnames for MC, selective mutism (which also means a slight canon divergence), early stages of a romantic relationship, no "y/n"

Sylus's is a bit different as I think his and MC's relationship would look the most different in the early stages since there's the whole "can't resonate with you if I despite you" angle, which wouldn't at the very least be *helped* by MC's condition pfft.

If you see any mistakes contradicting the above info, or if you find this disrespectful in any way, please let me know!

LADS LIs with a selectively mute MC

Xavier

Xavier, who isn't very talkative himself, falls in sync with you quite fast after you meet. At first you are wary of his intense gaze and the extended silence it carries as he observes you from a comfortable distance. But one day, you begin to look back at him, if only out of defiance, and that's when you start noticing.

Small head movements to question or to confirm, taps on the table and later on your arm or shoulder. Text messages with lots of emojis, shared playlists for different moods. And if all else fails, a gentle squeeze of your hand, to let your Evol do the talking for you.

He has been listening all along.

In comes one of those days. The mission goes well, but you are left dead tired, barely able to make it to your apartment. Xavier escorts you home, and as he wishes you goodnight, you grab his sleeve. Whatever emotion is showing on your face is enough to make him melt, and he turns back around, petting your hair.

"Got it, got it," he chuckles and lets himself be led to the couch, where you snuggle against him after putting on a random cartoon on the TV.

He is warm, and his hoodie is soft against your cheek. You listen to his slowing heartbeats as his eyelids begin to droop, his arm a solid anchor around your shoulders. At that moment you realize that this is how you want all of your missions to end: in this safe, comforting warmth.

"Xavier?" you call out, twiddling with the pullstrings of his hoodie. He stirs against you and lets out a questioning hum. You lift your head to look him in the eyes, and see them shining with something you dare to hope is adoration. He tightens his arm around you and patiently waits.

"Thank you," you finally decide to tell him, knowing that he knows it's about much more than today's mission.

"Think nothing of it, starlight," he murmurs and rests his forehead against yours.

Zayne

You forgot that Zayne knows. Of course he knows, that man doesn't forget anything, annoying as it may be sometimes. During your first appointment with him you try to bring it up, hoping that your old familiarity with him would help ease the tension. It doesn't, and in the end you have to resort to gesturing at your chart, cheeks burning in humiliation.

"I remember," Zayne tells you, his voice quiet, "don't worry about it. Just find a way that's comfortable for you."

On a rational level, it makes sense. He is a dedicated, renowned doctor who must have had first-hand experience with others like you beforehand. But on an emotional level you are on your toes for a good while. Zayne has a tendency to scold you about your heart condition, your recklessness on missions, your bad eating and sleeping habits. You just kind of... assume that this would be next on the list.

But the insistence never comes. Instead, there is a notepad and and a pen on his desk one day. The pen has a tiny snowglobe at the end that glitters prettily when you write with it. Zayne makes no mention of it when you come in, nor when you pick the pen up and start writing.

Afterwards you take that notepad everywhere you go with him. You write down your comments to him, your observations of the world around you, your feelings that are too precious to send him over text messages. You revel in the tiny upwards curl of his lips when he reads everything over, the hint of mirth in his hazel eyes that makes your heart flutter.

"Care to show me what you have written today?" he asks you one night as he is driving you back home from a restaurant. The car is standing still in traffic, and you are finishing your notes on that night's menu selection (the chocolate pudding had been especially delicious). You lean back on the passenger seat and look at his handsome profile, smiling to yourself.

"No, but I can tell you, Dr. Zayne."

You see his eyes widen in surprise and he glances at you, but before he can reply the traffic lurches forward. Zayne returns his eyes on the road, and reaches out to grab your hand in his. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles and your stomach does small flips as you see him smile.

"I'd love that."

Rafayel

"Not one to talk? That's okay cutie, I can manage for the both of us."

And that he does. At first you aren't sure if the eccentric artist even wants or needs you to talk; Rafayel can talk circles around just about anyone, rightfully smug about his captivating voice and demeanor. You find yourself being envious of his natural charm, sure that you could hardly measure up to him in this regard.

But the more you spend time with him, the more you observe his mannerisms when he talks to you (yes, to you, not just at you): the glances over his shoulder, his body turning towards you as his hands punctuate his speech. The way he cocks his head to the side and studies your face with that easy smile on his lips, reading your expressions and hums as he does. Resting his fingertips on the pulse point of your wrist and gently tucking your hair behind your ear as you fight a petulant blush under his curious eyes.

Bodyguard, bah. You aren't sure Rafayel really knows, or cares, what that job actually entails. Then again, it's not like you had to stay, yet you did. There is something mesmerizing about Rafayel, his eyes as deep as the oceans and brilliant as the galaxies, and in between scoffing at his antics or bickering with him through texts, you find yourself being pulled in further and further as if lured by a siren song.

"Do you want to learn how to paint, sunshine?"

This time he doesn't give even the slightest pretense for the date. You have long ceased to care, feeling warm but bold standing in his studio as he guides the brush in your hand across the canvas. It's raining outside, the pitter patter mixing in with the gentle swishing of your brush and his bare feet padding against the tile floor. Time seems to fly by as you recreate the azure sea in front of you.

As the rain starts to ease down and the clouds part just enough for you to see the waves again, you step in front of the floor-length window and gaze out. As you watch swaying seas, your eyes suddenly widen.

"Rafayel, come look! Dolphins!"

You don't have time to be surprised by your own reaction as he strides next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans his chin on your shoulder, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile.

"Now isn't that a nice surprise," he says, "I wouldn't mind this happening again."

You nod, the words failing you once more, but he is so close he must feel your answer in your heartbeat.

Sylus

If Sylus could take it back, he would. He would destroy planets and steal stars to redo your first meeting. He wouldn't assume anything, wouldn't take out his frustrations on you, wouldn't push and push until the truth screams in his face.

Because your eyes remain vacant of any recognition, any warmth he grew to know so long ago, and he only made it worse: he forced your voice out of your mind when your mouth refused to cooperate. He took it as defiance, a personal challenge, when it was anything but. It took an outsider to tell him to stop hounding you, and he hasn't been able to forget since.

Through what can only be described as trials you finally make it to the auction and beyond, and with Sylus's help you get your hands on the Aether Core. He does not know what you see in the vision the Deepspace Tunnel shows you, but whatever it is, it creates an opening. It lets you resonate with him, lower your guard and accept his help. And Sylus holds onto that chance like a drowning man.

From then on out, every day is dedicated to making up to you. Even if his words are rough, there is now softness lacing his features whenever he looks at you. Tenderness, the origin of which you do not recognize, and yearning that makes it hard to stay mad at him.

He may not beg for forgiveness out loud, but it is there in every question, every request, every wish.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight, sweetie?"

I'm sorry I treated you like that. I didn't realize. I should have.

"Mephisto brought you two necklaces. Show him which one you prefer."

I'm sorry I expected more than you could possibly offer. It isn't your fault you don't remember.

"Text me when you get home. The roads are slippery today."

I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable.

If you only knew how I adored you, little dove.

Your phone plays a familiar tune and you pick it up to see a video call coming from Sylus. It has become a habit of his whenever you are back in Linkon. He tells you he doesn't mind to be the one talking: he just wants to see your face.

"Hello sweetie, thank you for picking up. I called to say I'm sorry for missing our movie night. Some fool tried to blow up the armory in the north and I had to oversee the clean up."

You roll your eyes and sigh in mock exasperation. Sylus smiles back at you.

"I promise to make it up to you. Just tell me what you'd like."

"Anything we do together is fine, Sylus," you tell him and watch in mild amusement as his eyebrows raise and mouth freezes mid-sentence. "And stop... stop apologizing so much. Okay?"

It's not often the leader of Onychinus is rendered speechless, and you can't help a small giggle escaping your lips. It is your time to adore him, just for a moment.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Love in the Details

Summary: Spencer helps you while wedding planning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff & comfort

Warnings/Includes: wedding stress, reader is planning on wearing a dress

Word count: 1.2k

a/n: i don’t even want a conventional wedding but if spencer reid himself asked me to plan one i’d drop everything just to make sure i planned it perfectly

main masterlist

Planning a wedding is supposed to be one of the happiest times in your life, but right now, it feels like you’re drowning. Invitations, venue tours, dress fittings, cake tastings—the list goes on and on, and it’s all piling up, threatening to bury you alive.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Spencer’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He looks at you with concern, his warm brown eyes filled with worry.

You sigh heavily, sinking onto the couch. “I don’t know, Spencer. There’s just so much to do, and it feels like we’re not making any progress. I’m completely overwhelmed.”

Spencer sits beside you, taking your hands in his. “I know it’s a lot, but we’re in this together. We can handle it. Let’s break it down into smaller tasks and tackle them one at a time. What’s the most pressing thing we need to do right now?”

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “The guest list. We need to finalize the guest list so we can send out the invitations. But every time I look at it, it just keeps growing. I don’t know how we’re going to fit everyone. Why did we invite anyone? I thought we didn’t have any friends.”

“Okay, well, we do have friends. And we have to invite them, and our families” Spencer laughs, pulling out his laptop. “Let’s go through the list together. We’ll see if there are any names we can remove or if we need to look into bigger venues.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your chest. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. It’s supposed to be our special day, but I can’t help worrying about making everyone else happy.”

Spencer gently tilts your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Our wedding is about us. It’s about celebrating our love and commitment to each other. Our family and friends are important, but this day is ours. We need to focus on what makes us happy.”

You nod, feeling stress tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "You’re right. I just need to remember that."

"Exactly," Spencer says, smiling softly as he squeezes your hand. "What else do you need to get done?"

You sigh, leaning back into the couch. "I need to book a couple of venue tours. No one is getting back to me or answering my calls. It's like they're purposefully ignoring a very stressed bride-to-be."

Spencer chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sure that's not the case, babe."

"Feels like it," you mutter, frustration evident in your voice.

"I know," Spencer whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly. "What else?"

You groan, rubbing your temples. "I haven't picked an invitation style. I narrowed it down to two, but every time I think I know which one to pick, the other one starts looking better."

"Okay... anything else?" he asks, his tone gentle and supportive.

"A cake tasting with that bakery you like, booking the caterer, and fixing the—oh my god! The flowers!" you whine, tossing yourself back into the couch dramatically.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, his concern deepening. "Okay, deep breaths. What's wrong with the flowers?"

"I told him my favorite flowers, and he put in our whole order for the wrong ones! Our wedding is ruined," you exclaim, your voice breaking with stress.

"Oh, my love. Nothing is ruined." Spencer moves the laptop aside and grabs your hands, pulling you close. "Why don't I run you a nice warm bath so you can relax and reset? How does that sound?"

You nod, albeit a bit childishly, allowing Spencer to pull you up and guide you towards the bathroom. His touch is soothing, and you feel a glimmer of ease as he opens the door.

Spencer is so sweet and understanding, always knowing exactly what you need. He starts the bath, adjusting the water temperature to your liking, and adds some of your favorite bath salts. The calming aroma begins to fill the room, easing some of your tension.

As the tub fills, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Why don't you get undressed and get in? I'll be right back."

You do as he says, slipping into the warm water with a sigh of relief. Spencer returns with a towel, a glass of water, and a small plate of your favorite snacks. He places them within reach and kneels beside the tub, his fingers trailing through the water.

"How does that feel?" he asks softly, his eyes full of love.

"Perfect," you whisper, already feeling the stress start to melt away.

Spencer's hands move to your shoulders, massaging gently. His fingers work out the knots and tension, and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch.

"Take your time," he murmurs. "When you're ready, you can take a nap. You’ve done so much already, you deserve a break"

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, sinking further in the tub.

—

When you wake from your nap, the house is unusually quiet. You stretch, feeling much more rested, but a bit disoriented. Spencer is nowhere to be found, which is odd. You slip out of bed and pad down the hallway, eventually hearing his voice coming from his office. Curious, you follow the sound.

“It has to be those flowers. If any other flowers show up, I will not hesitate to rain down on your establishment with the full force of the law for any and every minute flaw that I know exists… okay, okay. Thank you very much for your time, sir. Happy to do business with you too.”

You stand in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What was that?”

Spencer turns around, a smile spreading across his face when he sees you. “Oh, nothing… just fixed the flower debacle.”

“No, you did not… how?”

Spencer coughs, looking a bit sheepish. “Uh, just charm and patience, baby.”

“So… that wasn’t the flower guy I heard you threatening?”

“Me? Threatening someone? Oh no, baby! You must be feverish! You’re hearing things! You need to lay back down!” Spencer flairs dramatically, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laugh, leaning into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Spence. I appreciate you so much.”

“Of course. I know how much stress you were under. I just wanted to lighten the load,” he says lovingly, kissing the top of your head. “Speaking of… I finalized the guest list, ordered the invitations, we have venue tours and a cake tasting this Saturday. Might be kind of busy, and that caterer you really wanted is available!”

He rushes out all this information in one breath, his excitement and eagerness evident.

Your eyes widen in surprise and gratitude. “You did all that? Spencer, you’re amazing.”

He grins, looking pleased with himself. “I just want our day to be perfect, and for you to feel as little stress as possible. We’re in this together, remember?”

You nod, feeling a swell of emotion. “I know, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

Spencer leans in, kissing you softly. “I love you too. I’ll do anything for you, my love. Now, how about we relax for the rest of the day? You’ve earned it.”

You smile, feeling the weight of your earlier stress lift completely. This is the man you’re marrying, the man who will threaten a florist just so your wedding day is perfect. You couldn’t be more in love.

[ironstrange1991]

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks  until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

BACK TO DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

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[iamsuckateverythingtobehonest]

Between The Wall

Pairing: Sagau!Aether x Reader

Summary: Aether finds solace in the voice, he once hated and now loves.

!Warning!: First Time Writing, might be bad!

Part 2/3

"—Argh...! Stop it, Aether!" you scream in frustration, putting down your phone on the bed with an annoyed face.

it's been a few weeks since you started to play Genshin Impact after being tempted by your schoolmate to download the game. They already told you the gist of what you should know before starting the game itself.

But, they never mention about this game has the main character a self-aware implement into their character.

At first you notice the way Aether's face scrunched up in discomfort after the prologue. It makes you creep out but then you remember that your schoolmate has told you about a few of their self-aware elements, though they just told you about their reaction when you cancel their movements by jumping.

You assumed that your schoolmate probably wants you to experience it by yourself which is nice but a head up would be great too.

"Gacha game? more like a horror game." you snicker as you continue to play on your phone.

As time goes on, Aether's 'behavior' becomes worse. From making a lot of negative responses to you controlling him, now he even tries to defy your control over him by doing the opposite of what you want from him from time to time.

"Aether, you little shit! Stop swimming in a circle and go back to the shore repeatedly!" you shook your phone like crazy, and there was a small smile curled on Aether's face making your anger flame harder.

"T-this game is shit!"

While anger consumes you, you log out from the game.

You sigh leaning back to your gaming chair as you spin around on it before standing up, moving to your door, and walking down the stairs to grab some water.

because of this problem is the reason why you are slowly about to snap and quit this game.

You arrive at the kitchen, open the fridge, grab a small bottle of water, and quickly drink it up.

While doing so, you heard a rapid clicking on a keyboard coming from your sibling's room. A curious look on your face before you slowly walk to their and casually open the door by the knob.

There you see, your sibling screams while her finger moves steadily on the keyboard before slapping her hand on her table in frustration once she loses.

"GODDAMN IT!" Your sibling shouted, it looked like she had died fighting in the Spiral Abyss, no wonder.

"Calm down," you shook your head, walking inside to stand by your sibling. "You will wake Mom up from her sleep at this rate."

They turns to you, "Oh, you, sorry," she slowly calms herself down and sighs.

"This level just gets my shit up to a hundred, who told Hoyoverse that this is fine, all I wanted was the Primogem." They grumbles.

You softly rub her back with a small smile, "It's still many days left until the limited banner is gone, I am sure you will get em."

They put down their headphones, "Talk about it, what AR are you now?"

"Well, it's, I think...AR 23 or more..." You thought absentmindedly.

"That's quick," your sibling mused, "How is your experience so far as a beginner?"

"Well it's fun, I love the world-building, the colour, the gameplay, and the Ui..." You trailed, listing what you liked about the game until an irritated look appeared on your face that made your sibling perk at it. "Except for Aether!"

Your sibling flinched at your outburst before she raised a confused eyebrow at you, "Aether? The traveler?"

"Yes!" You grip your hand into a fist while seething in anger. "I don't know why they implanted such a feature, Like every time I try to play, he gotta need to defy my game control, it's creepy! He used to follow me but now he keeps making ugly faces at me like excuse me!"

"I really, really hate him!"

You keep rambling about your frustration with the traveler which leaves your sibling gaping.

"I don't think they have that..." Your sibling uttered out.

"Well, I did! And it needs to stop!"

"Do you contact Hoyo Customer Service? Is it probably a bug?" Your sibling suggested.

"I did but they never replied." You said crossing your arms.

"They probably will get back to you, one of these days since I am sure they have many people to attend to." Your sibling reassured.

"I hope so,"

Your sibling then chuckles, "But I don't think you would hate him for so long."

You frown with an eyebrow raised, "Why so?"

"They're gonna be a certain quest when you reach AR 28 or above which gives more lore about him." She elaborates.

"I don't think I would." You squint your eyes.

"Well the fact you still using the Traveler despite the bug he has, say so." She snickers, "Just give him a chance, hate the bug instead of him."

You scratch your cheeks and sigh, "We will see."

You decided to give the game, a second chance.

"Aether, don't you think...you being too mean to the Creator?" She whispered scratching her cheeks floating, looking down on Aether crouching down inside the bushes.

They currently watching over a couple of boars walking with Aether having his sword in his grip.

Aether glances at Paimon before smiling, "Well, it's not that bad, it's a small price for them to control my body." He turns his attention back to the boars.

Paimon deadpanned, "What a lie! You just did that so they left early!"

He doesn't respond and just quickly dashes out from the bushes and thrusts his sword onto one of the boar, quickly he pulls back the other sword and slashes the boar sprinting toward him.

Quickly he used his Anemo ability to pull back the almost-escaping boars and slashed them in one go.

Blood splatter on his face, outfit, hair and his swords.

"Ah," he wiped the blood on his cheeks with his thumbs, "I need to get better at dodging the blood-splattered," He said out loud.

Aether suddenly flinched and turned his body to see another boar is running up to him.

"Hi-ya!" Paimon shouted, hitting the boars with a rock on the forehead. "Don't you dare to attack Aether!"

Aether blinked and smiled, "Thanks for the help, Paimon."

Paimon perks up and throws away the rock somewhere else, "Hehe, you're welcome~ praise me more~" she giggles happily.

"Now calm down," Aether chuckled.

Aether then gets to work after cleaning himself with a towel to cut the boar meat, one by one.

After that was done, Aether decided to sit down to open his notebook, and start writing some alphabet and spelling again.

Paimon sits down beside the Traveler, watching the letter he wrote with knowing looks.

"Is that the Creator's language?" She asked, quietly after watching her surrounding.

Aether nodded, "Yeah, I managed to decipher some of it."

"Oh! What is it? Let me see!" Paikon excitedly asked and leaned over to look at it.

Paimon curiosity slowly turned into a horrified look, "Did the Creator say that?"

"Yeah," Aether said amused at Paimon's reaction, "surprising huh?"

"There is a lot of cursing! Outrageous mean word!" She blinks rapidly, "The Creator has very interesting wording..."

"Most of the curse directed at me, I am not surprised." He smirked.

Paimon looks at Aether's face still has a smile and a fond look on his face. "You like them?"

Aether stops writing, "Huh?" He turns to Paimon.

"The Creator! Do you finally like them?" She excitedly asked.

"No!" Aether quickly stood up and took a step back, "Ain't no way! I just tolerate the Creator better than before!"

Aether is very obviously in denial with his cheeks adorned with pink blush, averting his eyes.

It's very true that Aether slowly but surely started to understand the creator, whether their language and their intention choosing him as a vessel.

The first word he managed to decipher is 'love' from the Creator's language, it's when Aether has fallen from the Statue Of Seven that the Creator for some reason controlled him to do so.

He had a fatal injury caused by that, and while he was whimpering in pain, he heard the Creator change of tone.

Aether's eyes widened, and he looked up at the sky, the creator rambled a lot but he could hear the concern and care for him which gave him goosebumps

"...Aether!$%-#&#!"

Aether perks up again when he hears his name between the rambling and his eyes widen more.

"...Aether&%$%...love#%#&#-!"

His lips parted when he understood the word, Aether's cheeks burned red and his eyes turned hazy.

He doesn't realize what happening to him but Aether for sure has stopped functioning at this time.

Aether shook his head from his flashback and continued to scribble some more. His ear is red as his scribbling becomes faster but much to his chagrin, the scene keeps playing in his head.

Paimon, who watching at his side had a small smile adorning her face. 'Aether surely has grown to like the Creator and that's good.

Both of them will stuck together until they reach their intended goal, they are both important to me, so please help each other."

Paimon hands intertwined. together to prayer, eyes closed with her forehead leaning to her clasped hands.

Until it's snapped open, Paimon turned her head with a frown. 'Who?'

She scanned the surroundings when she sensed something wrong again. 'Behind that tree." Paimon narrows her eyes.

She was about to move and check it out but suddenly Aether stood up which gained Paimon attention back to him.

"Aether? Why are you standing?" She called moving to him, "Where are we going?"

She tilted her head when Aether didn't answer her which was odd until she moved in front of him.

There she sees Aether standing still with his eye twitching in irritation. 'Ah, the Creator is back.'

Paimon smiles sympathetically at Aether.

Aether's body then quickly moved in a sprint which made Aether's eyes wide with Paimon followed in tow.

As they move away, neither Aether nor Paimon didn't realizes that someone is watching them from afar behind a tree, the arrow they grip in their hands is put away.

The unknown eye glints with mysterious light, "The Creator..." They breathe.

You are lying down on the bed, empty and in pain.

There are tears stained under your eyes, your eyes are red from crying so hard for a long time. Akin to a person on the brink of death gate and barely gripping onto life.

"i can't believe it." you hiccup, "Lumine, why are you doing this?! Reunite with your brother, come on!" you shout in frustration, kicking your feet into the air.

You just recently finish the 'We will be reunited' quest and it broke you down from the inside hard. You are mad at Lumine but at the same you try to understand her but what actually fueled to your anger against her is Aether.

After the quest, Aether's face have trail of tears and hurt plastered that you didn't have a heart to do anything that often making you in verge of crying. Often you have started to not using Aether, in hope his expression will be better but it just become worse and you even begun to miss his smirk from before.

Everytime you try your best to help the boy even though it's probably a waste of time. After using him back again for daily mission, his face become focus like he try to pull his mind away from the events. It's like he try to move on, his expression look so real which should not be possible since Aether is a character game.

"I can't seem to leave him alone," You rub your eyes and slowly calming yourself down. Getting up from the bed you reach for your phone and open your messaging app.

After a back and forth messaging with your sibling and friend, you finally come to conclusion of what to do now.

You get back with soda and snack by your side as you open up Genshin Impact in your phone with a determined face.

"I can't believe that I am doing this for a game character that I hate..." you mutter as you sigh before focusing to the screen again.

"My money..."

"OUR MONEY!" Paimon scream, "Why are the Creator even use it to but a freaking expensive firework!!" she whined into her hand.

"We could use it to buy more Sticky Honey Roast!" She cried out, step onto the ground pr air repeatly.

Aether just sigh, "Well we can't do anything about it," he keep jogging forward to somewhere that even he doesn't know with the Creator controlling him. "We will gain it back in no time, so don't worry so much Paimon."

"Okay... but where are we even going?"

Aether narrow his eye as he climb up the boulder, "Hm...I don't know but this place seem familiar."

The more they walk and climb, the more familiar the surrounding area looks, Aether is now crouching down to set down the firework under a cliff before his body starts to sprint up up to the cliff where from there, he could see Mondstadt.

"Are the creators trying to light fireworks in the morning?" Paimon wonders out loud, "What the point? It's not even night!"

But then a miracle happened, the day quickly went back to nighttime time and both Aether and Paimon's eyes widened at the sight.

The sky that once had a sun on its landscape now has a moon and star decorating It.

At the right time, the fireworks shoot up into the air and burst into many colour.

"Wow...." Aether breathed out in awe.

"Aether..."

Aether suddenly glances at the sky when he hears the Creator speak his name. Each word the Creator utters makes his heart skip a beat, flushing red and his eye sparkling.

"....With this, I hope you will cheer up a little bit."

A trail of tears goes down his cheeks as the Creator's words end. He can't understand some of it but the way his heart thumping, he just knows for sure that.

Aether has fallen in forbidden love with the...

Creator.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[spnbabe67]

Darling, You Look Divine

Kinktober Day 21: Body Worship (D.W.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2002

Warnings: Smut, Angst, John Winchester (Flashback), Fluff

Summary: When Tori starts to get insecure, Dean is more than happy to show his girl why she's beautiful

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Eyes Don't Lie by Isabel LaRosa

Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo /Square Filled: Multiple Orgasms

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @nightxcreature

Dean knew something was off with Tori. She’d gone to take a shower after dinner while Dean was finishing up doing the dishes. When he came back to their room he found her standing in front of the mirror that he and Sam had hung up. Tori had complained about the fact that every time she wanted to see how an outfit looked, she had to go to the bathroom for the floor length mirrors in there, rather than the small one on the medicine cabinet in the room. She was standing there, gorgeous body on display, her hair still damp from her shower. Dean walked up behind her, placing his hands onto her hips as her brown eyes met his in their reflection. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head a yours?” Dean mumbled as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her shoulder.

He felt her shrug, dipping her head before looking back up, catching his gaze in the mirror where he could see the glistening of tears starting to form. 

“Talk to me, Sweetheart.” Dean wrapped his arms around her middle, but hesitated as he felt her stiffen under his touch. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“It’s nothing, I just,” Tori started, taking a deep breath as she placed a hand over Dean’s arms. She laughed a little, tilting her head to rest against his. “God, I feel like I’m back in high school, picking myself apart in front of a mirror.”

Dean had an inkling that’s what was bothering her. Lord knows he’s spent enough time in his years placed in front of a mirror. After coming back from Hell, he kept checking his body for all the scars he’d earned after years of hunting. But everytime Alistair and his demons broke him down to pieces, they put him back together better than he had been, including getting rid of the scars and marks from before he was sent down below. That didn’t even take into account how many times before he’d met Tori that he’d stared himself down, loathing every feature that he shared with John, loathing the hardness of his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyes had lost the spark in them. 

He vividly remembered being plunked down in a gas station bathroom, all dingy and covered in graffiti, stinking of piss and body odor. He couldn't have been older than 12 when John had decided that his hair had grown too long. He remembered pleading with him to let him keep his hair the way it was. Remembered the sternness of his fathers voice as he grabbed the clippers and a pair of medic shears from his bag. He could still feel the tears on his cheeks as John had taken the shears to his hair, then the clippers. When he was done, Dean glanced in the mirror, and he saw his father staring back at him, only John had already left the bathroom.

“Does my girl need a reminder of how pretty she is?” Dean said softly, smoothing his hands across her belly to her hips. 

“Dean-”

“Nuh uh.” Dean cut her off, squeezing her hips. “I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, alright?”

Dean waited for Tori to nod, catching her slightly confused look in the reflection. He kissed her shoulder as he let his hands brush across her body until they landed on her belly. 

“Let’s start here, shall we?” Dean traced small shapes across her skin, circling the tip of his index finger around her belly button. He knew this was the main source of her insecurity, she’d said so before, telling him how she’d gained weight living in one spot. She was the furthest thing from fat, not that he would mind either way. Bodies change, but no matter how she looked, she’d still be his Tori. 

“This is normal. This lets me know you are well fed. It’s my job to spoil you and make sure you are taken care of. This tells me I’m doing my job right. Besides, you know how much I love to lay my head here. Speaking of which.”

He slid his hands higher, cupping her breasts. Dean heard Tori’s breath catch, saw the flush of her cheeks. “Do you know how much these drive me crazy? How much you drive me crazy? Makin’ me go crazy when you wear those tight tank tops.” Dean rolled her nipples between his fingers as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Don’t you think for one second I don’t know you’re teasin’ me when you wear them.”

Her laugh was the sweetest music to his ears, so breathy as she arched her back into his hands. He smiled into her shoulder, eyes catching hers in the mirror. Dean slid his hands back down her sides, feeling her shiver under his ministrations as one ended up on her thigh.

“And these?” Dean slid a hand along the inside of her thigh. “Don’t even get me started on these. I love the way these look in your jeans, and in those tiny shorts you know make me lose my mind. How many times these legs of yours have saved my ass, carrying me back home. So strong but so damn soft, I can’t get enough. Can’t get enough of the way they wrap around my head when I’m between ‘em”

Dean wasn’t sure Tori’s face could get any redder, her blush traveling down her neck, her breath growing shallower as he slid his hand higher and higher until he cupped her soaked core. 

“And I know you know how much I love this. Love to taste you, love how well you wrap around me. So responsive for me.” Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of Tori’s neck as he slid a finger down her center. 

She was already soaked as he ran his middle finger along her, finding her clit. His other hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her back pressed against his chest. “Keep those eyes open for me, Sweetheart.” Dean guided. 

Tori whimpered as he toyed with her clit, finding that perfect rhythm. Dean knew just how to make her fall apart. He’d mapped her body out in his head, knew every curve, every mark, every scar like it was his own. Most of all, he knew just how to have her moaning his name. His thumb took over as he slid his middle finger into her. She was so wet his finger slid in with little resistance, her inner walls fluttering around the digit. Dean watched on as Tori’s eyes were locked onto where his hand had cupped her core, where his fingers expertly moved in and out of her. 

Dean damn near purred as Tori reached up, carding her fingers through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He could feel her clench around his fingers as he added his ring finger, curling them upwards towards her belly. He was glad he had an arm around her waist as Tori’s legs started to shake, her hips rolling against his hand. 

“C’mon Baby. You got it. Let go for me.” Dean whispered to her. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.”

He cursed to himself as she clamped down on his fingers, moaning his name as she came, never taking her eyes off herself. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, panting as she came down from her high. Tori didn’t resist as Dean slid a hand under her legs, picking her up bridal style. He laid her down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before crawling up the bed to nestle himself between her legs. Dean placed a kiss to the inside of her knee, trailing hot kisses along the softness of her inner thigh all the way back to the apex between them. 

“You’re the whole damn package, Sweetheart. So beautiful, I can’t ever take my eyes offa you. Not that I’d ever want to.” Dean nipped at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 

His first taste of her was heaven. Instantly her hands found their way into his hair, tugging the strands as he laved his tongue up her center. Dean quickly found her puffy clit, pulling it between his lips, gently grazing his teeth against the bundle of nerves in a way that had her thighs squeezing his head. His hand snaked around Tori’s thigh and across her hips, holding them down to the bed, keeping her from wiggling too much. Her ragged moans met his ears, even through the tight grip her thighs had around his head as his tongue worked in and out of her, his nose nudging her clit

Quickly she arrived back at that high, keening as she came on Dean’s face. Dean happily worked her through her high, tongue flicking against her clit, dipping into her molten hot core until she was practically pushing his head away from between her legs. 

Dean pulled away, licking his lips as he pushed his sweats from his legs, his cock painfully hard from the moment he’d slipped his hand between her legs. He kissed his way up her body, starting at her pubic bone, letting his tongue drag every so often as he worked from her belly to between her breasts to the hollow of her throat until he finally claimed her mouth. Tori clung to him as Dean gently pushed himself into her. He moaned lowly at the feel of her velvet walls wrapped around him. There was no resistance as he slid in and in and in. 

“Feel so good, Sweetheart.” Dean praised, smoothing a hand up her side. “Takin’ me so well.”

He started to move once she had time to adjust to him, going slow at first as he kissed down her neck, hand coming up to squeeze her thigh as he placed it on his waist. Tori felt so good beneath him, so soft and pliant, juxtaposed to the hard edges of him. She was so damn pretty. Dean felt his heart swell with affection, in pride that he could say that this gorgeous woman was all his. 

“My pretty girl.” He mumbled against her mouth as he rolled his hips into hers, going at that languid pace that he knew had her barreling towards that edge once again. “Feel so good, my pretty girl.”

Dean could feel that heat low in his hips just as Tori started to sink her nails into his arm, whispering his name to the non-existent space between them. 

“I know, Baby, I know. Me too. Let go for me.”

Dean tried his best to keep the same pace, to keep his hips from bucking wildly into her heat as her walls fluttered around him, legs shaking. Tori’s third orgasm had her cumming hard, body going tense beneath him. She clamped down hard, triggering his own release. Dean claimed her mouth, moaning into the kiss as they shared their high.

Dean eased himself down beside her on the bed, pulling her to lay atop him as their breathing slowed. He caressed the side of her face, pushing inky strands of hair behind her ear. Tori smiled sleepily at him, both of them thoroughly fucked out. Dean traced up and down her spine, letting his fingers brush along her soft olive skin. 

“Thank you.” Tori pressed a kiss to his chest as she reached up, intertwining their hands. 

“No, thank you.” Dean replied. “I’ll take any chance I can get to show my pretty girl just how divine she is.”

Dean chuckled as Tori blushed hard again, hiding her face in his chest. She giggled as she looked back up at him. “What’d I do to deserve you, huh?” 

“I should be asking you that question.” Dean ran a hand through her hair again, the touch soothing for the both of them. “With you, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

[meirathinks]

⊹ ♡₊˚๑ 𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙐𝙏 ! ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

chef!Sukuna headcannons

okay. I know I haven't posted anything in like a year. and I know I'm a little rusty so bare with me ok😭 I'm sorry for the wait! Reader was intended to be black but I don't describe any features. lmk if I should turn this into a fic!!

Warnings: none!!

Chef!Sukuna is one of the world's biggest assholes. SURE he graduated top of his class AND SURE! The waitlist for his restaurant is so, ridiculously long. But his personality? Awful. 

He’s known for his near godly knife skills. He can chop an onion in ten seconds. He’s pretty sure it’s a world record.

His own staff is so, so terrified of him. The new kid, who’s bright-eyed and fresh out of culinary school, who was beyond excited to work at a Michelin-star restaurant quits on his first day.

(he cried on his walk home)

Sukuna leans into the back of his chair, while Uruame lets out an uncharacteristically loud sigh from their spot at the door. 

They step closer into the room while speaking, “You can’t keep a Junior chef for more than six hours—”

Sukuna groans, “Calm down— your job is to be my sous. Act like it.”

He puts his feet up on the peeling wood desk in front of him, deftly ignoring several receipts that were strewn on it.

Uruame nods, before leaving.

Sukuna wasn’t in the wrong you know, the junior chef should’ve known the difference between sauté and panfrying. 

He groans while moving to leave his office— he had prep to do. 

He’s worked hard to get where he is— to make his restaurant as good as it is. He designed the kitchen himself. He chose each appliance meticulously and placed them in the space deliberately

The delivery and food-prep and pastry sections are in specific parts of the kitchen, they cater to the menu.

Speaking of the menu. You cannot tell me that he didn’t lock himself in his apartment with pots and pans strewn everywhere. 

He’d have a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his hair would be a little dishevelled

But, he finally figured out that what his main dish needed was an acid. 

He’d have a rare, genuine smile on his face while he runs his hand through his hair. He’ll take another bite and excitedly drum his fingers on his kitchen countertop. He’s good. He knows he’s good. 

Sukuna’s leaning on the host station with a pencil in hand reviewing the guest list for that night’s dinner. His eyebrows raise at your name— which is circled in red marker angrily. He shouts to Uraume, who’s at the back prepping.

“What’s the red marker for.”

“We have a food critic coming in tonight.”

Sukuna scoffs, “We always have food critics coming in.”

“This one’s different.”

Yeah right.

For the head chef, and owner of a michelin star restaurant— Sukuna is relaxed. 

He’ll wear a white button up and some black slacks and the days he’s expected to work front of house. But his sleeves will be rolled high on his forearms and there’s always this dismissive look in his eyes

He doesn’t have to be some kiss ass— his food speaks for itself. 

People waited months to get into his restaurant for his food, not to have a conversation with him. 

The first thing Sukuna realizes is that you take a laughably short time looking at the menu. From what he can see from the host station, you’re looking at it out of graciousness than necessity. 

He walks over, ready to take your order. He nearly laughs when he notices that your notepad already has writing on it. 

You’re looking up at him through the low light of the restaurant. It’s tinged red. Like a night club you think. Tacky. 

“Hi,” You smile, “I’m surprised I’m being served by the Sukuna.”

“Yeah— it’s a slow day.”

You hum, “And here I was, thinking that you were out here just for me.”

He laughs. It’s this loud, low and smoothe. “I can hear your heart breaking from here.”

“Let’s start with the focaccia.” Your voice is a little shaky. He likes the sound of it.

He walks to the kitchen with a familiar grin on his face. 

Food critic his ass— you’re in love with him. He can tell. 

Chef!Sukuna who’s never had a negative review. Ever.

GQ. The New York Times. The Washington Post. Critics become regulars— they want an excuse to chat Sukuna (even if he doesn’t entertain it)

He’s earned a name for himself in the food scene, you know. People love him whether they like it or not. 

This was just the start too— he’ll open more restaurants, maybe something more formal. He thinks of himself as an immovable object or an unstoppable force or whatever is in those management books Uraume reads

So, imagine his surprise when Uruame forwards an article to him at 11:54 pm on a thursday.

Especially when he sees that you wrote the article. 

And that you gave the restaurant a 3 out of 5

A three out of fucking five.

Sukuna was going to kill someone. You, preferably. 

[princessleechan]

"You're the man!" Chapter 36 WRITTEN CHAPTER (18+)

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, dry humping, longing and lusting, smutish/suggestive

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie-main @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

It’s the second time you’ve decided to stay over at Soonyoung’s place, but things feel different than it did the first time. 

You set aside your emergency duffle—something you've made a habit of carrying ever since you started impersonating Yeonam—next to Soonyoung’s couch. Your feet touch Soonyoung’s apartment floor, and you take in the comforting scent of Soonyoung’s lived-in space.

Yep. You’re losing it. Or are just insanely horny with the right person at the right time.

"Make yourself comfortable. Don't be shy. Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Thanks." You follow him to the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the silence between you. He opens the fridge and pulls out a cold bottle, condensation forming on the glass as he turns back to you.

"Water?" he offers, extending the bottle toward you. As you reach out to take it, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting touch that sends a trail of electric currents through your skin, pebbling goosebumps. His touch is warm and lingering–like a gentle summer breeze on beach-kissed skin–sending delightful shivers down your spine and sending flutters to your chest.

You manage to hold his gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. "I hope I'm not making you nervous," he says, his voice low and reassuring, "at least not in a bad way."

As you take a sip, you peer at him curiously, letting the cold water wet your lips and flood your already dry throat. "What's the good kind?"

He grins. "The kind that makes you want to share a bed with me again."

Your heart does flips, and you press your lips together, trying to hide your smile as you nod. "Then maybe you do. The good kind, not the bad kind," you clarify, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good,” He shuts the fridge, talking a leisure step towards you. “I never want to put you in a compromising position."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Well, unless..." he trails off, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You wait for him to finish but his eyes look away from you, subtle flush decorating his cheekbones. You lightly nudge him, eyes wide in tease. “Unless…?”

Your eyes lingered on each other, the tension thick, the already fragile ties of chastity between you tempting to snap. Soonyoung chuckled softly, deciding to restrain himself by walking away, the temptation tingling in his fingers as he clenched and unclenched them. "Nope. PG tonight. I can't have you throwing me off my literal game. Sharing a bed is as far as I'll risk it."

You roll your eyes, finishing the bottle before tossing it in the recycling bin. "Then, I'm gonna get ready for bed."

Soonyoung winces, biting his lips to suppress a tempted grin. "You say that like there's more to it."

"We'll have to see, won't we?" you reply impishly, retrieving your bag and heading to restroom.

Soonyoung can't help but trail behind you, his eyes tracing your every movement with an almost magnetic pull, captivated by each subtle gesture and shift. "I like you," he confesses, leaning casually against the bathroom door frame. His hands reach up to effortlessly embrace the door frame, a subtle display of restraint that somehow fails showcasing the veins bulging against his biceps that begs to be caressed. His grin is playful yet sincere, revealing more than just his intentions, even the ones he doesn't mean to. "But you're gonna have to keep your hands to yourself."

You scoff softly, a trace of skepticism lacing your voice. "I'm not the one you need to worry about."

Soonyoung lingers behind the closed bathroom door, his ears attuned to the sound of water flowing from the showerhead. A slow smile creeps across his face, reflecting a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. “I know,” he whispers under his breath, his fist tightening with excitement. He quickly dashes off, driven by the surge of anticipation to meticulously double-check the cleanliness of his room.

Meanwhile, you stand under the shower, letting the cool water cascade over your face. Each drop feels like a gentle relief against your burning skin, tense and taut from the thoughts racing through your head. You take a deep breath, feeling the rest of the stream rushing down your body in brisk anticipation. 

You have no idea what tonight might bring, how far things could escalate, or how much you're willing to reveal in his presence. Tonight holds the potential for change.

Tonight, you might finally tell him the honest cold truth.

You exhale deeply, letting the air rush out, cleansing every corner with the soap lathered in your hands—even those usually shielded from the sun—preparing yourself for any scenario. Soonyoung may be aiming for nothing for the evening, but that could shift in an instant, leaving both of you more drained than anticipated before the game the following day.

After finishing your shower, you step into the bedroom designated for tonight. Soonyoung is already there, lounging invitingly on what appears to be freshly changed sheets, his smile welcoming as he looks up at you. "There you are," he says warmly, patting the spot beside him. "Get comfy."

You can't help but return his smile as you approach and hop onto the mattress. The air carries a trace of his freshly applied cologne, attempting to mask but somehow enhancing his natural scent, creating an intoxicating blend. As you settle in, his arms envelop your back, guiding you snugly against him. The closeness allows you to feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours with barely enough distance to admire his features as he does yours.

He begins tracing the shape of your eyebrows, the bridge of your nose, and then the curve of your lips, all with his eyes. It's as if he's mesmerized by your features, finding familiarity and beauty in every line. You feel a flutter of discomfort, wondering if he's scrutinizing you too closely, afraid of being caught off guard so early in the evening. But before you can ease the tension, Soonyoung seizes it, firmly pulling you closer to him, his nose brushing against yours.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confesses in a single breath. "You and your beautiful face, and long tangents.”

You let out a chortle, covering your mouth timidly as you drew closer. “I can’t help those.”

“It’s a compliment. Speak your mind all you want.”

“You have the attention span for it?” You lightly nudge. 

He tenderly knocks his forehead against yours. “You could go on about paint colors and you’d still have my attention.”

“I won’t put you through that misery.” Your hand combs through his hair, blown dry and sleek at the touch. Your fingers wander where they want to and massage into his scalp, watching his eyes delicately flutter shut as giggles leave his pretty lips.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, and the pads of his fingers caress your skin. “Don’t tease a guy.”

“I’m just playing with your hair.”

“It's not just my hair you’re playing with.” His hand slides down your back, following along the curve of your spine.

Your heart plummets, loosening the grip of your fingers before you reclaim his gaze, mischief playing a heavy hand. “Touchy, are we?”

“You started it.”

You muse back at him, melting into his touch, melting under his tender watch. “Soonyoung–”

His nose brushes against yours once more, tracing the bridge of your nose, his lips dangerously close. The single point of contact feels charged with a palpable ache, and you can't quite tell whose longing is louder. Your hands cup his cheeks, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin against your cool palms. The only sounds now are the soft rustling of bodies against the bed, both of you struggling to get even closer, despite being already so near. “Why do I have a feeling there is a lot more to talk over DMs than in person, right now?” You hummed.

“Does that bother you?”

You shake your head, your nails lightly scraping against his skin. “I’ve got a good distraction.”

Your hips crushes against his, his presence of arousal brushing against your thigh, and you hear the sound of Soonyoung’s breath being hitched in his throat as you dig against between his legs. “Hey,” he utters breathlessly.

You let out a lethally soft moan, your flustered breath fanning Soonyoung’s face as you embrace the taut figure through his clothes, and gently grind against his arousal, feeding the voices in your head that call out to him. 

He claims your waist, gently gliding down to your hips, and rides high with you, taking every thrust and grind with stride. The bulge in his pants takes a newer, bigger life and whether you like it or not–which you definitely do–you could feel every inch, dragging you down deep and deeper to succumbing.

You levy yourself on top of him, looming over him before squeezing his torso between your thighs. His gaze flicks up to you in soft confusion, but his hands follow seamlessly, tracing over your body delicately and feeling every bump and crush of him against your body. You’re vibrating at his size, moaning from his touch, no doubt feeling your arousal soak through your clothes.

“Slow down,” he gasps, “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Is that what you want?” You drew your lips to his ear. “Really?”

He shakes his head, clawing up your body as his other hand cups between you both and feel the heat of your cunt radiating on his palm. “No. Not at all.”

Your lips would hover over one another, touching but not kissing, as if testing each other’s patience. Few words pass between you, both of you consumed by the assertive  touch of each other's movements. Soonyoung has to have everything in him not to take the plunge inside you right now but he knows what sex does and that’s warp his mind.

For a long time, he’s let sex take over his life, make it his reason to wake up, worm its way to every wrinkle of his brain, leading him to believe that it’s the solution to all his problems. And like any medicine, once you swallow a pill, you are done with that dosage. He can not let that happen to you. Not you. Never you.

But his urges are overpowering his desire for a deeper connection, one that he’d shame himself for hours later. He is nothing but weak in your presence and at the moment he craves you. “Please,” he begs helplessly.

“Please, what?”

Soonyoung fists around your clothes, bringing you closer as his thrusts grow frantic, voice brimming with plead and shame. He is overwhelmed with his lust and need, he can no longer deny himself of gratification, even if the clothes had to stay on. “Don’t stop…”

You can feel the sweat, the desperation, turmoil you’re going through. This feels good. Soonyoung feels good. You can only imagine what he’d feel like bare to his bones. How full he’s feel inside you, how slick it’d sound of him pushing in and out of you, how harsh the snaps of hips are as your skin collide. The thought alone–

“Oh my god, I’m close,” you give out. “I’m really fucking close.”

“Shit,” Soonyong replies, anguish tantalizing in his voice, “That’s so hot. I’m not even inside you yet.”

“Fuck you,” you chuckle, grinding deeper, his clothed erection practically poking hole through you. 

“I may be on the same boat,” he admits, his thrusts losing their control. “I just never thought you’d be first to say it…I could cum here right now with you on top of me.”

“Soonyoung…”

“I mean it.”

There is another word that needs to be said as it quickly takes a turn. He’s toppling over you. Nothing gets in your way, and Soonyoung makes it clear that it goes the same for him, that he’d show no mercy. Through the fabric of your clothes, you explode against each other. Through fits of want and greed, you embrace everything, breathing in pants and sweat like they’re life forces, until finally, a shot lands right in its goal.

Soonyoung clutches you fervently, his jaw slack as his release drowns his briefs then his sweatpants, thrusting his final jerks against you. You lay satisfied underneath him, in a daze from your own orgasm, only able to process and think about the look on his face: how perfect he truly looked above all. How natural he feels against you, you’re maybe the happiest and most relaxed you’ve been in a very long time. In that moment you realize, what more can you want?

“Fuck,” he sputters with a smile. “Now I have to change.”

He beams at you with a wicked smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you head to the bathroom while I freshen up the sheets again?”

“I don’t mind a little sweat and grime,” you reassure him, moving closer.

“Please do as I ask, or you’ll make me want to tire myself out even more for the big game when it’s already,” he glances at his bedside digital clock, “one in the morning. I’ll make it up to you afterward, hmm?”

You let out a defeated sigh before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. I’ll clean up, and maybe I can clean up you,” you say, brushing the dark stain on his sweatpants, “after.”

“Tempting,” he hums with intrigue.

You peel away from him, lifting your shirt slightly to cool off the perspiration on your skin, revealing just enough to tease Soonyoung. The effect is immediate—he leans back, eyes lingering appreciatively on the enticing sight. “I’ll be back,” you say with a playful glance.

“And I’ll be waiting.”

Soonyoung watches you leave with a contented grin, settling into bed in a state of deep bliss, savoring each calming breath. In this peaceful moment, a chime interrupts the tranquility—a sound that demands attention and brings focus to itself. For Soonyoung, who is basking in his happiness, this chime is unexpectedly out of place. That wasn’t what his phone sounds like.

His gaze follows the chime, landing on a phone on his dresser that seems oddly out of place yet vaguely familiar. It’s the phone you inadvertently left behind when you joined him in bed, seemingly forgotten in the moment. Intrigued, Soonyoung picks it up, curiosity growing as he notices the screen cluttered with an array of messages. The names flashing across the display are unmistakably familiar, each one sparking fleeting flashes of recognition in his mind.

As Soonyoung sifts through the flood of texts new and old, a sinking realization dawns on him. What has he done?

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 2

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Kissing. Pining. Lusting. 😁

Word Count: 5,192

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you're enjoying this 1900s Dean x Reader AU. Thanks for all your kind words about Ch. 1.

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Dean visited the library at the same time for the next two days, hoping Y/N would be spending Lucy's nap time there again. But she didn't show up. He saw her only briefly when she came to dinner every evening. However, she rarely spoke and left quickly at the end of the meal. She was always polite, always answered any question put to her, but mostly she kept her head bowed demurely and stayed silent.

On the evening of his second day, as soon as Y/N was out of the dining room, Jessica walked up to Dean and punched him in the arm.

He shot her a glare as she moved off to help Sophie, their kitchen maid, clear the table. "What was that for?" he asked.

"What did you do to her?" Before he could defend himself Jessica put a hand up to stop him. "No, don't try to look innocent. Before your arrival we were making headway with Y/N. She'd been so painfully shy when she first got here. It was all, 'Yes, Sir’ and ‘Yes, Ma'am'. She'd finally begun to call me Jessica, but now I'm back to being Ma'am. And she barely speaks now! What did you do?"

Dean shrugged and gave his most innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jessica rolled her eyes and moved off to the kitchen. Sam watched his wife walk out of the room before confronting Dean.

"Look, you know I don't tell you how to live your life. I walked away from Father's life, and you took it onto your shoulders. You get all the pressure, all the societal gossip, all the responsibility of keeping the family business afloat. For all of that, I figure that you're entitled to do as you choose in your personal life." 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But Dean, don't mess around with this woman. She's kind and innocent and she doesn't deserve to be yanked around by you, or left broken-hearted."

Dean frowned. Did his brother really think he went around ruining women and breaking their hearts? "You wound me, Sammy." He said, only half joking. "I mostly bed bored wives and widows and they all know what the situation is. I don't go about my life leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me."

"How would you know?" Sam asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You never look back to notice." When Dean started to try and defend himself again Sam just shook his head. "Look, I just mean, don't treat Y/N with disrespect."

"Of course not." Dean said. But as Sam left to set up their card game in the parlor, Dean realized he had been disrespectful to Y/N. He'd have to track her down tomorrow and rectify that.

To Dean's delight the next day, he found Y/N at the far south end of Sam's property, sitting on a bench in the apple orchard. As he stepped from behind a large stand of trees, he cleared his throat, trying not to startle Y/N again. But she must have heard him coming through the leaves on the ground because she didn't look startled. She looked like a deer in the rifle sights of a hunter. He smiled, trying to put her at ease.

"Good afternoon, Y/N. I'm so glad I found you." He decided to do away with formalities, given the proposition he had planned.

She cleared her throat, but it was still soft and husky when she spoke. "Yes, so nice to see you too, Mr. Winchester. I was just about to head back up to the house, so if you'll excuse me…" She tried to walk briskly past him, but he caught her arm and tucked it into his.

"Wonderful, so was I. I'll walk you up to the house."

She looked like she wanted to argue, her mouth opening and closing several times before simply saying, "thank you" in a small voice. They walked a moment in silence. Then Dean decided to get right to the point.

"I realized that I may have seemed terribly rude the other day. I acted without explaining to you what my intentions were, what they are, I mean."

Y/N looked up at him, her expression surprised and slightly perplexed. "Your intentions?"

"Yes, you see, from the moment I saw you sitting on that bench by the train station, I've known I want to take you as my mistress."

Y/N stumbled, but Dean kept her upright. "Careful." He said as he stopped and turned to face her. "Now, I know that you're an intelligent, beautiful woman. I would never dream of asking you to come away with me if I couldn't provide for you." Dean smiled and began walking again, leading her forward.

"You'd have your own house, of course. I'd give you a household allowance and a clothing allowance. I'd expect you to attend some societal obligations with me. Only the ones where wives aren't present, obviously, but that's still a fair few. It would likely be one a week at least. Other than those obligations, your days would be yours and I would come to visit you a few times a week. I'll always try to let you know of my intentions the day before, but sometimes my schedule can be unpredictable."

Dean stopped again and turned to face Y/N. She stopped when he did, but stayed staring straight ahead. He couldn't tell what she thought of his proposal. He walked in front of her to try and see what her answer might be.

"Do you have any demands you would like to make of me?" He asked, unsure of her feelings.

Her features were flat and expressionless, until she met his gaze. Then he could see that her eyes burned so dark, they looked black. She raised her arm and her palm came down in a fiercely stinging slap across his left cheek. He stood stunned for a moment, before looking back to stare in astonishment at the absolutely furious woman standing before him. Her breasts were heaving, her cheeks were flushed and the anger sparked from her gaze like sparks from a fire. She was magnificent.

She raised her hand to slap him again, but he saw it coming this time and grabbed her wrist, holding tight. She pulled hard against his grip and he let her go, afraid that he'd break the fragile bones he could feel moving under his hand.

Suddenly her beautiful face contorted and she grabbed up her skirts and ran. It took Dean a moment to realize she was crying.

Well, dammit he thought. That did not go the way I planned.

***

Y/N sat in the library the next day alternating between rage and despair.

Clearly she was everything her mother had been. Obviously in spite of everything she'd worked for, the world could still tell she was the daughter of a fallen woman.

Her mother had been the disgraced daughter of an English Lord. She'd been shipped off to America to live with an elderly aunt until she could be safely married off to Y/N's father.

This was information she only learned at the age of sixteen when a so-called friend, Meg, had told her. Meg had tried to hide her glee as she explained to Y/N the reasons why some of the other girls at their boarding school shunned her. The rumors surrounding her mother and her hasty marriage were old, but still circulating.

Y/N had been mortified, but she'd confronted her mother about it at the summer break. Isobel had looked stricken but then said that yes, the rumors were true. She wouldn't talk about it except to say that Y/N should always keep herself pure and chaste. 

She took Y/N by the shoulders. "Your purity, your chastity, it is everything. The pious will tell you that your soul depends on it, but I'm telling you Y/N that not only will your soul suffer if you give in to passion, your life will suffer too. Stay away from men."

It was some of the last advice Isobel had ever given Y/N. Three weeks later, her mother died of blood poisoning after a cut had become infected.

Y/N hadn't known how to feel. She was sad, of course, but she'd barely known her mother, really. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother had been mostly absent, letting first the nannies and then teachers at the boarding school raise her daughter. 

On top of the rumors surrounding her early years, it was suggested by some that after her husband's death, Isobel lived as a kept woman. Y/N wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she knew by the whispers and slightly curled lips that it was dirty and wrong.

And now she'd been offered the same life.

As she'd listened to Dean lay out his offer, she realized that this must have been what people had meant when they said her mother was "kept". A man had paid for her living expenses in exchange for…for what, exactly? Dean had said that he'd want her to accompany him out sometimes and that he'd visit her.

What would happen during those visits? Whatever it was had to be the reason people had seemed repulsed when they talked about Isobel.

Her mother had money, Y/N always knew that. It was how they afforded their beautiful home and the boarding school that was Y/N's other home. But when she'd been young she'd never thought where the money had come from, she assumed maybe from a trust her father had left.

But of course that was impossible. Her father had owned a modest general store with two locations in the city of New York. He had been firmly middle class, and couldn't have provided that kind of life for them.

When her schooling had ended shortly after her mother's death, she had no marriage prospects and no job prospects either. No one wanted a governess from a questionable past, especially one who was young and beautiful. That's what Mrs. Oliver had told her anyway.

Mrs. Oliver had been her savior. She was an elderly lady who sat on the board of the school and gave large donations. Y/N had met her at some of the school functions, when the girls were trotted out to converse with the patrons and show them their donations were creating lovely, demure young ladies.

Mrs. Oliver had liked Y/N right away. She liked her wit and her kindness and when Y/N left school, she’d offered her a position as her companion. Y/N took the position and counted her lucky stars.

Mrs. Oliver was still sharp and lively even into her seventies and working as her companion had been the happiest Y/N had ever been. She'd worked for Mrs. Oliver for just over five years before the lady passed away peacefully in her sleep.

Y/N had come to work for the Winchesters soon after, thanks to the glowing reference Mrs. Oliver had left for Y/N in her will. Now she'd been a governess for nearly two years, and had begun to believe that maybe she'd outrun her mother's scandalous life. Maybe she wouldn't turn into a "ruined woman incapable of controlling her passions". That was how she'd heard her mother described once.

But no, here she was, acting completely inappropriately with a man she'd only just met. Acting so inappropriately, in fact, that he believed she would welcome being a kept woman.

As she sat in the library, her rage left her and the despair rose again. She was a lost cause. Her soul was obviously already tarnished and if she wasn't careful, her life would be too.

***

Dean had gone to the orchard first, looking for Y/N, before trying the library, so his clothes were damp and his hair was wet from the misting drizzle that was falling. He tried the library as a last hope and almost heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Y/N's form folded into the green chair. 

He knew that Sam and Jessica had taken Lucy to town for a couple of hours to see the circus parade that was going down Main Street before setting up in the fairgrounds. Only the groundskeeper, Kenneth, and Sophie the cook were around. So Dean closed the door and turned the key in the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed.

As he approached her, he could tell that she had been crying. A pain he didn't recognize clenched his gut and he realized it was remorse. He had been the one to make her cry. He had to fix it.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." He said as he took a seat on the couch facing her.

She resolutely ignored him, as if he hadn't even spoken. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Look," he began, "I can clearly see that I've hurt and insulted you. Please believe that was the last thing I intended. I only meant to show you that I didn't think you were just some easy maid to be tumbled and forgotten. I wanted you to know that I was offering you more. I wanted to provide you with luxury and wealth.”

He clasped his hands together. “I know my brother and sister-in-law pay well but still, a governess' salary isn't much. When we finished our time together, you would have had enough to live on your own quite comfortably. You'd be cared for, and wouldn't have to worry about earning money again. That's what I was trying to tell you. I wanted to offer you so much more than you have now. I thought perhaps you wanted more as well."

She looked up from her lap. Her stony face was still beautiful, even in its sharp, harsh lines. Her gaze scorched him.

"Please, leave. I am rejecting your proposal." Her voice was all ice; it made him long to melt it.

"I gathered that you rejected my proposal when you ran away from me and then refused to come to dinner last night." Sam and Jessica had been sure it was his fault she didn't come down and since he was also sure it was his fault, he didn't even argue very hard.

"I accept your rejection of my proposal. But I don't want to leave. I wanted to talk with you a while."

Y/N just returned her attention to the book she had in her lap. He sighed. He took a chance and moved to kneel on one knee in front of her chair. The closeness had the desired effect of surprising her out of her block of ice.

He took her chin in one hand, lightly, so she could pull away if she wanted to. She didn't.

"Truly, Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am to have insulted you or hurt you. Please believe that was never my intention."

He saw a slight thaw in her gaze and decided to take it as a win. He didn't want to push his luck so he left the library.

He returned the next day in the hope that she would be there; she was. She was also there the next day and the day after that. The hours between two o'clock and four o'clock quickly became his favorite time of day. Over the three afternoons they spent together the ice in Y/N's smile began to thaw more and more until he was able to pull actual, sweet smiles from her. They were like a prize.

They spent their time discussing books they’d read and loved and explaining only a little bit about their backgrounds - Y/N seemed as reluctant as he was to discuss it. So instead they talked of world events and Y/N described her excitement at the prospect of the World's Fair that was coming to St. Louis in 1904. 

She’d longed to go to the previous World's Fair in Omaha the year before, but of course, she couldn't afford it and Lucy had been too little for Sam and Jessica to want to take her. Y/N hoped that because Lucy would be nearly eight years old by the time the next World's Fair arrived,Jessica and Sam might take them all to St. Louis to see it. When she talked about it, her enthusiasm and excitement made Dean very happy.

After dinner one evening he caught up with her as she left to go to her room in the nursery. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a large mahogany bookshelf. She looked surprised and tense. He smiled.

"Run away to the circus with me." It was such a ridiculous request that it shocked a chuckle out of her.

"What?" She asked, her mouth stretching into an adorable grin.

"Come with me tomorrow afternoon. It's the last day the circus will be in town, let's go see it. It's no World's Fair, but it should be fun. It's your day off tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Don't say no. Say yes."

She shook her head. "Why are you even asking me if you're just going to answer your own question? Why not just ask yourself to go?" Her voice was teasing.

"I make terrible company."

"You're not being very convincing."

"I'll buy you popcorn."

"Well, that seals it then." Y/N said. "You should have started the request with popcorn."

***

Y/N stood in front of her mirror and contemplated changing for the third time that afternoon. The indigo blue cotton dress she wore now was simple and modest. The puffs on the sleeves weren't too large, which she'd liked a few minutes ago when she'd pulled it on. But now she was wondering if she should have puffed sleeves at all. Did it seem as if she was putting on airs, trying too hard to look like more than a governess? Perhaps she should have just worn the serviceable gray wool she wore during her days with Lucy.

Her opportunity to change ended when she heard the soft knock at the door and Jessica called, "The carriage is ready for you and Dean."

Y/N opened the door and smiled, trying to hide her nervousness. Jessica clasped her hands and brought them to her lips.

"Oh, Y/N, you look so beautiful. That dress is lovely."

"Thank you." Y/N said, suddenly shy. She liked Jessica very much, Sam too. They were both kind, fair, and wonderful employers. She felt as though they could be real friends if they weren't separated by the professional relationship between them.

She wondered what Jessica thought about her stepping out with her brother-in-law. Before she could wonder for very long, however, Jessica linked their arms and started walking Y/N towards the front door. On the way she offered some advice.

"Dean is a good man. You know, he paid for Sam's schooling and helped him start a practice in spite of their father's disapproval. He wanted both his sons to follow in his footsteps and run the business. But Dean knew that Sam's heart lay in the law. So, he defied the old man and took care of his brother." She took a deep breath. "So, please don't think that I'm giving you this warning out of any sort of concern about Dean's honor." 

She stopped just inside the front door. "He doesn't try to ruin women. He doesn't mean to break hearts. He's just…well, he's just him. And although he certainly knows he's more handsome than the devil," she rolled her eyes, "I really don't think he understands the effect he has on women. They fall for him, and he's moved on before he ever even thinks to catch them."

She grabbed Y/N's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I guess I just want you to be careful, and maybe put a bit of a wall up around your heart."

Y/N was blushing, but she nodded. She was way ahead of Jessica. Over the last few days Dean had shown her that he was intelligent, compassionate, sardonic but hilarious, and wonderful with his niece. She'd forgiven him for his proposal, believing that he was truly sorry and that it had all been a misunderstanding. Perhaps the way she'd behaved with him in the library that first day had made him believe she would welcome the offer.

Whatever the case, there had been no more such talk and in all other respects he'd acted as a perfect gentleman.

Did her heart still pick up its pace every time he walked into a room? Yes.

Did her stomach flip and fill with butterflies when she looked too long into his eyes? Yes.

Did her fingers sometimes itch and tingle with the need to reach out and touch him? Yes.

But as long as she didn't give in to her wanton thoughts, she would be fine. Dean was leaving in about a week; she could manage to hold herself in check. She admitted that she was excited for today's outing to the circus, but only because she'd always wanted to see one. It had nothing to do with Dean.

Then Jessica opened the front door and there he stood. He wore a dark gray suit that was tailored to him perfectly. His eyes were more of a mossy green than emerald today, and they were full of good humor. He smiled his dazzling smile at her and her belly was suddenly full of butterflies again.

He offered an outstretched hand for her to take so he could help her down the stairs. She slipped her hand into his and tried to ignore the warmth that spread up her arm because of the simple touch. But the thought came unbidden to her mind that she wanted to feel his hands everywhere. She was horrified and almost turned around to run back inside.

But she didn't. She continued with Dean into the carriage. Kenneth was driving them and he tipped his hat to her as she climbed in. The open air carriage allowed the sunlight to pour over her and she relished the extra days of summer they had been granted.

Dean climbed in and sat beside her. She could feel the hard length of his thigh even through her layers of skirts and petticoats. She tightened her fist around the parasol she carried and tried without success to ignore the feelings that came from sitting next to Dean.

He always smelled like shaving soap, and something very male, almost spicy, a scent that belonged to Dean alone. It never failed to make her salivate and swallow as though she was savoring a tasty treat.

They arrived at the circus grounds and Dean stepped out of the carriage and again offered Y/N a hand to help steady her down the steps in her skirts.

She stumbled slightly on the last step and Dean caught her under her elbow, pulling her into his side to stabilize her. She leaned into him for a moment, her body giving in to the feeling of bliss that came from his arm wrapped around her waist. But quickly, she straightened up and mumbled her thanks before rushing toward the gates.

This may have been a very bad idea.

***

"And the fire-eaters! Did you see them, Dean? I mean, they swallowed fire!" Dean chuckled as Y/N repeated her reverence for the fire-eaters, as she had at least a half a dozen times since seeing them that evening.

The circus had indeed been a lot of fun, much more fun for Dean because Y/N was clearly enjoying herself immensely. There had been acrobats, and jugglers, and a woman who walked on a tightrope. There were musicians and performers of all kinds. There were clowns and games to win prizes. In her purse Y/N carried a small bird made out of wool with real feathers sewn onto it. He had won it for her at a game of ring toss.

The day had sped by and Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much doing something that didn't involve whiskey, women, and cards.

Now he was walking her up the steps of the porch and he wanted nothing more than to extend the evening. So, he didn't go inside immediately, instead he lingered when they got to the front door and he was happy to see she did too.

Some of her elation from the day seemed to slip away and she was shy again. Ducking her head she said, "Thank you so much for taking me, Mr. Winchester. It was a lovely day."

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean said, a reprimand in his voice. "We're not back to that are we, Y/N?" He took a step closer hoping she wouldn't step back. She didn't.

He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "May I kiss you goodnight?" he asked, unable to hide the heat in his eyes as he raised her chin with his forefinger.

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

A smile came to his lips. "Because I want to. And, tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you might want me to as well."

"No." she said succinctly and he immediately took a step away from her.

"No." she said again, but grabbed his hand. She shook her head. "I mean, no I want you to."

He frowned, struggling to understand what she was trying to say. She exhaled roughly as though she was exasperated. And then she leaned up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly and fleetingly against his.

When she pulled away her skin was so red, he could see her blush even in the moonlit shadows they stood in. “I'm so sorry.” She said, clearly flustered. “I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what came over me."

Dean’s grin was wicked. "I know what came over you, it's come over me too. Will you let me kiss you now? And show you?" His voice was husky with his desire and it took all he had not to lean forward, grab her, and crush her lips with his own.

"You already kissed me." Y/N said, confusion on her face. "You just did." It took Dean a moment to realize she was referring to the little light-as-air kiss she'd just given him.

He tried to curb his laughter. "Well, that was certainly sweet, but not the same as me kissing you."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You just kissed me."

"No, you kissed me."

After a moment's contemplation, Y/N scoffed and looked at him suspiciously. "You kissing me, or me kissing you, it's the same thing. You're just trying to kiss me again."

Dean smiled. "You don't think there's a difference between you kissing me and me kissing you?"

She shook her head, her expression suspicious. "Of course not."

"Would you care to make a small wager on that?

"I don't gamble."

"Oh, this won't be for money. If, once I kiss you, you still think there's no difference, I will grant any request you make of me." Dean paused and heat flooded his hooded gaze. "And vice versa."

***

Y/N stood in the moonlight, staring up at her own ruin and she didn't even try to stop it. She nodded, agreeing to the wager.

Dean reached out and took her hand, shaking on the deal and then pulling her in close. Even in the semi-darkness his green eyes shone, jewel bright. He stood for a moment simply staring at her mouth. The hunger in his gaze made her shiver.

He took her chin in his fingers and leaned close to her, his mouth hovering over hers for what felt like an eternity.

"What are you…" Y/N was incapable of speech. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure it would soon burst. "Hurry up." She said, shaken completely.

Dean shook his head slowly. "No." His voice was deep and rough and he drew out the word, so it rumbled up from his chest.

When he was a hair's breadth away from her lips, she put her hands up between them, flat on his chest. The warmth of his skin through his shirt burned her palms.

"I concede." She blurted out. "It's different. It's not…this is different."

Dean's expression was pained. "Do you want me to walk away?"

The part of her mind that was desperately trying to preserve her sanity was screaming at her to say yes. But her body physically revolted at the thought of him moving away now and she shook her head.

"Thank God." He breathed against her lips before finally covering them in a kiss.

Dean's lips were soft and plump, but they pressed firmly against hers, and the pressure made her dizzy. She swayed slightly and Dean grasped her head in his two hands as he deepened the kiss.

She felt him sweep his tongue across her sealed lips, as though he was tasting her, and she gasped. He took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue inside. He tasted like the apple cider they'd drunk earlier; it was warm and spicy, and she reached her own tongue out to explore the taste further.

Dean groaned low in his throat, a sound that made all the hairs on her body stand up and gooseflesh race across her skin. His hands slipped from her head, down over her neck and shoulders. He slid them down to her waist and pulled her against him while he walked her backwards until they were up against the wall of the house.

He pressed his hard body into her, and moved his lips to her neck. Fire exploded along the path his lips had taken and Y/N was suddenly desperate to feel his mouth everywhere.

She was seconds away from asking him for exactly that, when a light went on in the house and they both froze. The light didn't spill onto them and it was extinguished fairly quickly, but it had been enough to bring Y/N to her senses. She stepped to the side, out of the circle of Dean's arms. She was instantly so cold she started to shiver.

She couldn't think what she could possibly say, so she simply rushed toward the entrance. But he caught up her hand just as she reached the door.

"What about my request? I won the bet, remember?"

He stepped up close behind her, wrapping his strong hands around her upper arms, and whispering in her ear. The low rumble caused the shivers to move inside her body so that her insides trembled.

"Come to me tomorrow night, at midnight. The household will be long asleep, but I'll be waiting for you."

He let go of her arms and she ran into the house as fast as she possibly could, before she could agree to the request or deny it. She had no idea which one it would be.

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[mysticalmallard]

Groceries

Description: Opie struggles with shopping alone for the first time. This is part 2 in my Opie and the waitress series.

Word Count: 5,097

Warnings: none I think

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016

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Parts:

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 •

SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎ Series Masterlist

Opie groans as he pushes his cart down the aisle of the local grocery store. The place is packed, people bustling around as they pick up their weekly shopping. He feels extremely out of place here, being a much larger compared to the other people in the store.

He reaches a hand up to rub his temple as he attempts to decide what to put into his cart. He is used to Donna taking care of things like this, and he can't keep letting Gemma do it for him, but he is severely out of his depth here.

As he is contemplating what to pick up, he turns the corner of the aisle, and he walks straight into something, or should he say someone.

Opie lets out a small grunt as he bumps into the person at the other end of the aisle, and he takes a step back, an apology on the tip of his tongue.

Opie opens his mouth to speak, but when he looks down he realises that the person he has just collided with is none other than the waitress from a few nights ago, the one that has been in his thoughts ever since.

She looks up at him with surprise, recognition flashing in her eyes as she realises who it is in front of her. "Opie?" she asks, a smile on her face that Opie feels like could make his heart stop.

He is sure his brain has just short-circuited by hearing her say his name in that soft quiet tone. He stares back at her for a moment, unable to find his voice to speak, before he clears his throat, forcing himself to speak. "Yeah, hi" he replies gruffly.

She can't help the smile that appears on her face, and she glances around his cart, taking notice of how it is nearly empty. "Shopping?" she inquires, a slight cheeky tone in her voice.

Opie follows her gaze to his cart, and can't help the small flush of embarrassment that rushes through him. "Yeah..uh...I guess I don’t really know what I'm doin" he stutters out awkwardly, raking a hand through his hair.

She gives a small chuckle, amused at the fact this big strong man is struggling with grocery shopping, and she glances at his cart again for a moment. "Looks like you're missing at least a few essentials" she tells him softly.

Opie can't help but feel a small pang of irritation at her chuckle, but her soft tone seems to ease that feeling, and he lets out a sigh. "Yeah, I never needed to learn any of this..." he admits, running a hand down his bearded face.

She gently places her basket into his cart and holds her hand out to him expectantly.

Opie can't help the surprise as he watches her slip her basket into his cart, and he can't help the small shudder of excitement that rushes through him when she holds her hand out to him.

He glances down at her hand in confusion, unsure of what she is wanting.

"Gimme your shopping list. I'll help you find what you need" she chuckles at his expression.

Opie can't help the flush of embarrassment that spreads across his face as she starts to chuckle at him, for the second time in less than 5 minutes. "I...erm...don't have a list" he stammers out, rubbing a hand over his neck awkwardly.

The waitress can't help the surprised expression on her face as he tells her that he doesn't have a list. "You came to a grocery store without a list? Rookie mistake" she shakes her head at him tutting.

Opie gives a sheepish shrug, feeling more and more foolish by the minute. He is supposed to be this rough 'biker' type, yet he is having trouble with something as simple as grocery shopping.

"I know" he grumbles out in reply, feeling the heat on his face.

The waitress can't help the smile that appears on her face at the sight of his sheepishness, the rough biker man getting worked up over something like grocery shopping.

Opie watches as she starts going through his cart, feeling even more useless as he realises there is barely anything in there. He knows the other Sons would laugh at him if they knew that he didn't even have the bare minimum essentials.

"So...how many are you shopping for?" She asks looking back at him.

Opie hesitates before answering, he had hoped that she wouldn't ask that question. He isn't sure what her reaction will be to the realisation that he has 2 young kids.

He glances down at the floor momentarily before replying, knowing it is best to be honest. "me and my two kids" he mutters.

The waitress's eyebrows raise in surprise as she does the math in her head. This big biker is a dad? She can't help to be a little shocked, the idea of such a tough man having kids is something she never expected.

"How old are they?" she asks curiously.

Opie looks up at her as she asks, and he can see the surprise on her face. He knows that he doesn't look like the typical father, and he isn't exactly sure why he is so nervous to tell her the truth.

"uh, I got a 11 year old and a 7 year old" he replies, a small smile appearing on his face as he thinks of them.

Her expression softens considerably as she hears the age of his kids. The thought of this big biker of a man having two young children is beyond adorable to her.

"That's quite a gap between them" she comments with a small smile.

Opie lets out a small chuckle at her comment, knowing it is very true.

"Yeah, my daughter, Ellie, came as a surprise. I guess I wasn't the best at wrapping it....we were more careful after for a while until we diecided to have Kenny, my boy" he jokes with a smirk.

She bursts into small giggles, "Well, I don't know much about kids, but I do know that they probably won't be too happy if you bring them back BranFlakes for breakfast."

Opie can't help but feel a rush of endearment at the sound of her giggles, she has a cute soft voice, and watching her laugh is making his chest ache.

He glances down at the half empty cart, embarrassed at his lack of experience in this department. "You're probably right" he mutters.

She smiles before grabbing his cart, and gesturing for him to follow her. "Well, we better make sure we get some 'kid approved' items in there" she chuckles, shooting him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

Opie can't help the small grin that appears on his face at the sight of her cheeky grin, his chest aching even more as she starts walking away.

He follows along behind her, watching as she starts grabbing things and placing them into his cart.

"Are there any allergies I need to know about?" She asks looking over her sholder at him.

Opie glances up from watching her fill the cart as she asks the question, and shakes his head in reply. "Nah, Ellie likes to joke that she's allergic to broccoli, but other than that, they eat nearly anything you give them" he says with a small chuckle.

She can't help the small giggle she lets out at the mention of the broccoli, imagining the little girl refusing any food that has the dreaded broccoli in it. "Duly noted" she says with a nod.

She grabs the BranFlakes box out of the cart and places it back on the shelf before walking down to the more sugar filled boxes. She thinks for a while before grabbing a box of cocoa pebbles. "You really can't go wrong with chocolate flavoured anything when it comes to kids" she comments placing the box in the cart.

Opie can't help but agree as he glances at the box of cereal she places into the cart. If there is one thing he knows about his kids, it's that they will eat nearly anything that contains sugar. He watches as she grabs a few more items and places them into the cart before asking her a question that has been playing on his mind since she began helping him.

"You, uh, don't have any kids yourself?" he inquires, not taking his eyes off her as he awaits her answer.

She feels a little pang of sadness at his question. The truth was that she did want kids someday, she came close a couple times but it didn't work out, probably for the best her Ex wasn't the nicest. "No, no kids" she replies quietly, her smile slipping for just a moment before she quickly turns to grab a couple bags of chips from the shelf, and places them in the cart.

Opie senses the change in tone as she replies to his question, and he can guess from her expression that the answer is a touchy subject for her. He wants to ask why, but he feels like it might be a bad idea and decides to change the subject.

He watches quietly as she continues filling the cart with kid approved items. "I feel kinda bad, you're basically doin' all the work" he comments, watching her carefully with his intense gaze.The waitress looks back at him as she hears his comment, a small smirk on her face at the look on his face.

She stops her search through the shelves and turns to face him, patting his chest. " I don't mind, I'm having fun." She reassures him, giving him a sweet smile. "but if you really wanna help you can push the cart" she offers walking off towards the fridges leaving the cart with him.

Opie can't help the small shudder he feels when she pats his chest, his body yearning for her touch. "Bossy" he mutters playfully, grabbing the handle of the cart and rolling it after her.

The waitress shoots him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she hears him call her bossy, and she can't help the fluttering feeling that appears in her stomach at the sight of his grumpy face as he pushes the cart behind her.

They reach the fridge section and she grabs a few cartons of milks and juices, placing them into the cart before walking over to the meat section.

"You seem like a meat and potatoes kind of guy...you have any steak preferences?" She asks putting some eggs in the cart carefully leaning over to make sure they're placed right.

Opie's eyes can't help but go straight to her ass as she leans over, and he has to hold back a low growl, his mind imagining all the things he would do to her.

He manages to compose himself enough to reply to her question, and he quickly turns his gaze away from her. "uh, yeah steak is good. I guess I'm not picky on what kind" he stutters out, his voice hoarse.

The waitress glances back over her shoulder as she catches the tone of his voice, and tries to hide her smile when she realises what he's likely looking at.

"So I'll just grab a few T-Bones for you" she replies innocently, trying her best not to grin as she grabs a few steaks and places them into the cart.

Opie feels his face heat up as she catches him looking at her, she definitely knows what he was looking at, but she doesn't seem too upset by the fact.

He can't help the small smirk that appears on his face as she teases him by grabbing a few T-bones, knowing that she has him all figured out. "Yeah, I like T-Bones" he concurs, his voice back to its usual gruff tone.

She giggles at his response, knowing she had guessed right. She turns to look at him, a grin on her face, " I knew it" she grins, putting a couple more things into the cart.

She glances at their cart and realises they have everything they need, so she turns and starts walking to the check out area, motioning for Opie to follow along.

Opie pushes the cart after her as she heads for the checkout area, noting how well stocked the cart is now, and he can't help but feel grateful to her. He had no idea what he was doing, but she just took control and made it so easy.

As they reach the end of the aisle, he lets out a small sigh, not wanting this time with her to end.

She fishes out her basket, and he notices that she forgot to do her own shopping. Opie realises that she must have been so busy helping him that she didn't have the chance to get her own things, and he feels the guilt rising in his chest.

"Hey, you didn't even get anythin' for yourself" he points out looking down at her basket with only a few items.

She shrugs and gives him a small smile, "I was more focused on helping you out, I didn't really need much anyway."

She gestures for him to come forward and starts placing her items on the conveyor belt for the cashier to scan.

Opie can't help but feel bad at her casual reply. He really hates the idea of her doing all the work to help him, and not even grabbing some stuff for herself.

The least he can do is pay for her stuff.

He watches as she places her items onto the conveyor belt and removes the divider she placed down. "Don't worry about it just add it onto mine, it's the least I could do after all your help." he mumbles adding his own things on.

She looks at him in surprise, not expecting him to offer to pay for her stuff, but she doesn't want to turn down such a nice gesture.

"You don't have to do that you know." she protests, feeling a little guilty that he wants to pay for her as well.

Opie can't help the stubborn look that appears in his eye at her protest. He is set on doing this because he truly does want to repay her for all her help, even if she doesn't think he should.

"You've been a real big help, I wanna do this" he mutters in a gruff voice, watching as the cashier starts scanning their items.

She can see how set he is on doing this, and she doesn't want to fight with him. "Alright...I won't argue with you" she concedes as the cashier continues to scan.

He can't help the small sense of relief that washes over him at her compliance. He can be pretty stubborn and he really didn't want to have to fight with her about this, she has done so much to help him already.

As she agrees he shoots her a small smirk, "Damn straight you ain't." he mutters.

The waitress can't help the small chuckle that leaves her at the sight of his small smirk. This rough biker man was kind of cute in a grumpy sort of way.

She watches as the cashier finishes scanning and starts rattling off the total amount, and she glances at Opie, wondering if he is gonna freak out at the price.

Opie glances at the cashier as she reveals the total, and he can't help the small whistle that escapes him at the amount. Damn, how did he not realise shopping cost this much money.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, glancing over at the waitress to see her reaction.She looks at Opie as he pulls out his wallet and notes the look of shock on his face. Damn, he hasn't done grocery shopping by himself before, has he.

She can't help but bite her lip in anticipation as she can see him count his cash, she hopes he has enough.

Opie pulls out his wad of cash and begins counting it. He doesn't usually carry a lot on him, but he did have a large sum from a recent club pay out, so he was pretty sure he'll have enough.

He continues counting and lets out a small breath of relief, he has enough to pay, without completely emptying his wallet.

She feels her chest loosen at the sight of his relieved expression, she is glad that he has enough cash on him, she would have felt bad if he didn't.

She watches as he places all of the cash on the counter for the cashier to count, and she raises a brow when she notices that most are big bills.

Opie can't help the small sense of pride that appears in his chest as he realises he has enough to pay, and he places all the cash on the counter in a sort of show off manner.

He glances back at her as she looks at the wad of cash, and he can guess she is a little surprised. He can't help but let out a small smirk. He reaches over and places the bags into the cart.

She can see he is proud of the fact he has the cash, and she can't help the small giggle that escapes at the sight of him acting like a cocky bastard.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you balance all these bags on your bike" she thinks out loud the imagery making her giggle.

Opie can't help the small eye roll that appears at her comment. The thought of trying to balance all these bags, while having to keep control of his bike...well it's not a pleasant thought.

"Haha, very funny, But I brought my truck this time" he mutters with a scowl, but a small twinkle in his eye that gives away his not so stoic demeanor.

She can't help the cheeky grin that appears at his grumpy expression, the thought of him struggling to balance a whole cart of groceries on his bike was hilarious.

Her expression turns to surprise at his next sentence. "You have a truck?" she asks in shock. From the looks of him, she couldn't imagine him ever driving anything that wasn't a bike. "I thought driving cages was against the biker code or something" she muses walking backward looking at him with a teasing smile.

Opie can't help the small scoff that leaves him at her comment, but he can't deny how cute her cheeky grin looks.

"There's no 'code' against drivin cages, we just like bikes more that's all" he mutters as he pushes the cart after her, shaking his head, but a small smile forming on his face. This girl is really getting under his skin.

They have reached the cart corral now and each grab their own bags. She gently places the cart back in its proper place. Opie watches as she puts the cart back, noting all the effort she has made to help him. She really didn't have to do all this, she could have just given him a few simple suggestions and left him to it.

But she didn't, she made sure he had the right things and even helped him with the checkout. He feels so guilty that she barely even got anything for herself.The waitress notices his silence, a contemplative expression on his face. She wonders if he regrets letting her help him, did she overstep?

She turns and looks at him, a small bag of her own stuff in each hand, "You okay?" she asks, tilting her head at him.

Opie snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice, his eyes glancing up to meet hers. Damn, she looks adorable with that head tilt. He realizes he hasn't answered her question and he clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine, just..." he trails off, not really sure how to explain his thoughts.

The waitress can tell that he is struggling to find his words. She steps forward and places a gentle hand on his forearm, an act of reassurance.

"Just what?" she presses, her eyes searching his. She can tell that he is thinking something, but he is having difficulty expressing his thoughts.Opie can't help the shiver that travels up his arm at the feel of her soft hand on his skin, the touch so light, yet so electrifying.

He looks down at her, his eyes meeting hers, and he takes in her warm expression. Damn, she really is too good for him.

"Just, uh...I just...wanna say thanks. For all your help today" he mumbles, the words escaping him before he can even think of what to say.

A small smile that appears on her face at his words. She doesn't miss the slightly flustered look on his face as he mumbles out his gratitude, the way he is struggling to form his thoughts is endearing.

She keeps her hand on his arm, the warmth of his skin feels nice. "It was no problem at all, I'm happy to help" she replies warmly, looking up at him. "Now, where is this cage of yours, I wanna make sure you pack them right. Trust me you don't wanna get all the way home to realise half your groceries got crushed." she says glancing around the lot trying to guess which truck is his.

Opie tries to keep his cool as she keeps her hand on his arm, the small action making his head spin. It feels so nice having her touching him, but it also makes his brain fuzzy and he can't focus.

He follows her gaze as she looks around the lot, a small smirk appearing on his face, knowing exactly where his truck is. "I'm parked over there" he states, gesturing towards the back of the lot.

The waitress looks in the direction of where he is pointing, and she spots a pickup at the far corner of the parking lot. "Ah, I see it" she says nodding in the direction of the truck.

She takes her hand off his arm reluctantly and grips her bags tighter. "Lead the way" she says in a playful tone, gesturing for him to go first.

Opie can't help the small pang of disappointment that he feels as she removes her hand from his arm. The slight warmth of her touch is already missed.

He swallows and grips the bags in his own hands, and he begins walking in the direction of his truck, the waitress falling into step next to him.

As they approach his truck, he lets out a small grumble as he realises it's pretty dirty.

He glances into the cab and sees clothes and empty beer cans scattered around along with an old hoodie hung on the back of the driver's seat. He stands in front of the window to block her view.

She notices the way he stands in front of the window, like he is trying to hide something inside. She can't help but be a little suspicious, what could he be trying to hide?

She raises an eyebrow at his actions, but she doesn't question it. She glances at his truck, taking note of the way it looks on the outside. It's a beaten up old thing, a bit of a clunker by the looks of it.

He clears his throat slinging the bags into the truck bed, Opie tries to act casual as he continues to block the window, pretending to be fixing the bags in the truck bed, trying to hide the messy interior from her view.

He feels a hint of embarrassment at the sight, he knows how bad the inside of the truck looks, and the last thing he wants is for her to think he's some kind of slob.

She continues to watch as he adjusts the bags, a part of her still wondering what he's trying to hide from her view inside the truck. But she knows better than to prying.

She glances around the lot casually, taking in the cars around them, noting the few people loading their own groceries.

"Your truck's a bit of a fixer-upper huh?" she asks, looking at the scratches on the paint.

Opie winces a little at her comment. Yeah, his truck isn't the prettiest thing, but it's still his baby, and he loves it, scratches and all.

He turns around and gives her a slight glare. "She ain't a 'fixer-upper'. She's just got a little character" he says, slightly defensive of his beloved truck.

She can't help the small chuckle that escape her at his defensive response. She can tell he really loves this truck, and she finds his defense of it endearing.

She holds up her hands up in a surrender gesture, a playful smile on her face. "You're right, I didn't mean to insult her" she says, a hint of tease in her voice, patting the truck gently.

Opie couldnt stop the small huff that escapes him at her playful tone. Damn, she really has a knack for getting under his skin.

But as she pats the truck, a part of him warms at her actions. She's treating his baby with respect, and he likes that.

"Damn right you didn't," he mutters, a small smirk appearing on his face.

She tiptoes leaning over to see into the back moving what she can reach into better spots and instructing him how to place what she can't.

Opie watches as she tiptoes to peek into the back of the truck, a small chuckle escaping him at her attempt to reach. He can't help but find her adorable, the way she's determined to get things loaded properly.

He follows her instructions closely, placing the bags in the spots she indicates. "You're real bossy, you know that right" he mutters as he works, a small smirk on his face.

A scoff leaves her at his mutter, but she can't deny the slight butterflies that appear in her stomach at his comment.

"I'm just making sure everything is loaded in the most efficient manner, and you're just following my lead" she retorts with a smirk.Opie can feel a surge of heat rise in his chest at her retort, damn this girl was something else.

"Ha, more like I'm doing all the heavy lifting while you bark orders" he grumbles, trying to sound like he's annoyed, but secretly loving this.

She can see the hint of enjoyment behind his grouchy facade, and she finds it endearing.

"Hey, someone has to make sure the job gets done right, and that's where I come in" she teases, grinning up at him.

She glances around at the bags one more time. "That should do it, as long as you don't drive like a madman all your food should arrive in one piece" she says with a nod.

"I ain't gonna drive like a madman, I know how to handle this old gal" he grumbles, patting the side of the truck.

He looks over at the bags, satisfied with how they've been packed. "Yeah, they should be fine. You really have a talent for packing bags" he mutters gruffly.

"It's a skill I've acquired from years of bagging groceries," she replies jokingly.

She looks at the bags once more, satisfied with the job well done, and she steps back, turning to face him.

Opie watches as she steps back, a small sense of satisfaction filling him at the sight of his packed truck.

"Well, looks like we did damn good work" he mutters, a hint of pride in his voice.

He can't help the flicker of disappointment that appears as he realizes this means their time together is coming to an end.

She picks up her own shopping bag from where she placed it down. She pulls her phone out. "Shit.. sorry I've gotta go my roommate has been waiting out front for me awhile apparently..it was nice seeing you again Opie"

Opie can't help the pang of disappointment that appears in his chest as she checks her phone. He doesn't want her to go, but he knows he can't keep her from her plans.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Yeah, I guess I should get goin' too..."

He watches as she picks up her bag, a small ache in his chest. "It was good seeing you too, thanks again for all your help" he mutters, his gruff facade faltering. She can see the hint of disappointment in his eyes, and it makes her feel a bit guilty for leaving.

But she knows she has to go, her roommate is waiting for her afterall.

She smiles warmly at him. "It was my pleasure, really" she replies, her voice soft and sincere. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Opie gives small nod at her words, trying to hide the ache in his chest. He doesn't want her to go, he wants to keep her here with him and keep this nice day going, but he knows that isn't possible.

"Yeah, I'll see you around..." he mutters in a low voice, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he looks away.

He watches as she turns to walk away, the sight of her leaving making his chest feel tight.

She glances back at him over her shoulder, her heart aching. She can't help but feel like she's leaving behind something special, something that she doesn't want to say goodbye to.

She swallows the lump in her throat and raises her hand in a small wave as she turns back to walk away. "Take care, Opie" she calls back over her shoulder.

Opie watches as she walks away, her retreating figure making his heart ache even more. He doesn't want her to go, he wants to call out and ask her to stay, but he can't find the words.

He stands there, watching her go, a mix of sadness and longing in his chest.

"Yeah, you too..." he mutters, his voice thick with emotion.

Opie climbs into the cab of his truck, his mind still lingering on the waitress as he closes the door.

He starts the engine, the sound of it rumbling to life breaks the silence in the cab.

He grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he tries to push the thoughts of her out of his mind.

Damn, he can't remember the last time a woman had this much of an effect on him.

[trippiexlove]

Serendipity - Ch. 9

story master list

Warnings: SMUT‼️ MDNI!!

Druitt POV

It was finally the end of the week, and I made it back home from visiting my doctor. He took me out of action for the next few weeks, and will be sending all my paperwork to the WWE Trainers. 

Though I am going to hate not being able to wrestle, I am going to take these few weeks to relax, and recover. 

I was watching a movie when I heard my phone start ringing, seeing it was Jey calling. 

"what's up main event?"

"hey beautiful, I was just calling to check on you"

"I'm good just watching a movie, what you up to?"

"Nothing much, just got to the hotel"

"Oh you were at the house show today?"

"Yeah, had another match against Drew, now my ass tired"

I laughed, shaking my head "I can hear it all in your voice"

"I know, but how are you feeling? what's did the doctor say?"

"Well, he confirmed that I would be out for a few weeks, he said he would send my paperwork over to the trainers"

"It's going to be hard not having you around for a few weeks"

"I know, I hate it but I will be back and better than ever, Nia is going to have to get her receipt"

He laughed on the other line before replying "I don't doubt it, but since you will be away for a few weeks I got some days off coming up in a couple weeks, I can come visit you"

"Really? I would love that"

"Of course beautiful, I can come out there and help you out and bring you some company"

"Well then I can't wait then"

We stayed on the phone for a few moments until we called it a night, both of us tired from the day. 

I woke up in the morning, immediately making myself some breakfast since I was really hungry. 

I decided to make myself some waffles, with fruit on the side. Sitting down at the island, scrolling through my instagram feed. 

Since the doctors told me to take it easy, I decided to do a light workout that consist of stretching, sit ups, and walking on the treadmill. 

I finished my workout just as Jade called me. 

"Hey girl what's up?" I put the phone on speaker. 

"Hey girl, nothing much, just wanted to check on you" 

"Thank you, I'm doing good, just got finished working out" 

"It's been so boring without you here"

"I'll be back in a few weeks, do me a favor, I see you got a match with Rhea, whoop her ass for me"

"You know I got you sis, I got to go though I will talk to you later"

"Alright bet, talk to you later"

* 2 weeks later* 

I was in a deep sleep until I was woken up by the ringing of my phone. 

I reached over, answering it before the last ring. 

"Hello?" I let out tiredly as I turned over in bed. 

"Hey beautiful, didn't mean to wake you but I got something being delivered right now to your house"

"Ok, I'm going to the door now, what is it?"

"Just go open the door and you'll see"

I quickly made my way downstairs, heading towards my front door.

"Jey you know I don't like surprises"

"I promise you'll love this"

"I better, waking me up at 7A-" I stopped talking as I saw Jey standing right in front of me. I squealed and instantly jumped in his arms. 

"Told you would like your surprise"

"I sure do" I leaned back, leaning up giving him a quick kiss. I moved to the side and let him in. 

"Worth waking up at 7am?"

"So worth it, how was your flight? why didn't you tell me you were coming, I could've cleaned up a bit"

"It wasn't bad, and don't worry your place isn't bad"

I lead the way up the stairs to my room, watching Jey drop his things in my closet. 

I had laid back down in bed with Jey laying beside me, who had changed, instantly pulling me to him. 

I looked down at him, holding his face in my hands. "What you want to do" 

"If it is ok with you, I just want to take a nap"

"That's fine with me" he cuddled more into me, both of us closing our eyes letting sleep takeover. 

*few hours later* 

After taking a wonderful nap, we decided to go out for the day. 

We were currently hanging out around town, between shopping and eating we were both beginning to be tired so we headed back to the house. 

When we entered the house, I walked in the kitchen going through the cabinets and fridge looking for anything to cook for dinner. 

"What you in the mood for dinner?" I was reaching up in the cabinet when I felt Jey's presences behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, turning me around standing extremely close. 

‼️‼️‼️

"You could be on the menu" 

"Oh really?" I leaned up closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

He closed the gap between us and pulling me into a kiss. This kiss was different, it was more needy, more lust filled. 

He suddenly picked me up, causing me to let out a gasp, and began walking to my room without breaking the kiss. Once we got there he laid me down with him hovering over top. His lips found their way to the side of my neck, with my hands finding its place within his curls. 

He came back up and attached his lips with mine. He tugged on my shirt and I helped him get it off, along with my bra. 

He trailed kisses down my neck, shoulders til he got to my left breast, immediately attaching to it, while massaging the other. His started hands starting tugging the hem of my pants. 

"take these off" he leaned up taking his shirt off, his tribal tattoos on full display. 

After taking them off, I pulled him back to me "I want you" I said in-between kisses. 

His hands wandered down, finding the lining of my underwear. His fingers lightly grazing over, he pulled away looking at him.

"Can I?" I nodded my headed, biting my bottom lip. "I need words beautiful" He applied a little pressure, which caused me to let out a little gasp.

"Yes" I moaned out. I soon felt the feeling of his fingers entering me at a nice and steady pace. Leaving me in a fit of moans, as Jey left his mark throughout my body. 

I could soon feel that I was close, my body slow succumbing to him. 

"W-wait Jey, I'm close" I moaned out, throwing my head back.

He pulled his hand away, immediately finishing getting undressed. "Not yet, I'm not finished" 

Once he was undressed, I couldn't help but look down, instantly wide eyed. 

I just know this isn't what he walks around with. 

"What? Scared now?" he said with a smirk on his face.

"Please, ain't nobody scared, I can handle it" He leaned down to my ears, wrapping his hands around my neck. 

"Then be a good girl, and take it" 

He pulled me into another kiss, til I felt him slowly slide in. Letting out a gasp, that gave Jey opportunity to slide his tongue in and we began fighting for dominance. To which he won, and I became a moaning mess. 

"Mmm .. Fuck Jey!" 

"Speak to me, what you want baby" 

"Deeper, I want you to go deeper" I moaned out as his strokes got longer. 

I moaned out as he worked his magic. I wrapped my arms around him, leaving scratches along his back. 

I felt myself coming close, my back arching off the bed. 

"J-jey I'm coming" I threw my head back as Jey kept up the pace. He leaned down engulfing me into another kiss. 

"Let it go ma" his hands wandered down, circling around my bud, which amplified the knot in my stomach. I let out a big moan as I came down from my high. 

He pulled out, trailing kisses down my shoulders.

Jey POV

"Hope you don't think we're done" I kissed all the way down her body til I was in-between her legs. I put her legs over my shoulder, and immediately dived in, no hesitation. 

I flattened my tongue and took a long swipe up her folds, causing a gasp to escape from her lips. I started devouring her like she was my last meal.

"Fuck Jey" her back arched off the bed, as her hands found their way into my curls, slightly pushing me away. 

I tightened my grips around her legs, holding her in place as she moaned from the pleasure she was receiving. 

I felt her nearing her end, so I grabbed both of her hands and intertwined our fingers together, holding them in place. 

"J-jey baby" she barely moaned out.

"Come for me baby" that was all she needed to hear, as she let out a long moan releasing on my tongue. I got every last bit, leaning back up bringing her into a passionate kiss, letting her taste herself. 

"Turn over" I said in a commanding tone, and she did as I said. I wasted no time slipping back into her again, making her yelp out. I kept a steady fast pace, as the room filled with the sounds both of our moans. 

My strokes must of became a little too much for her to handle, as her hands found themselves pressing against my abdomen.

"Move them damn hands" I smacked her hands away as my grip on her waist tightened. 

She moaned out as I sent a smack to her ass "Baby I can't it's too much". I pulled her up, her back against my front, my hands wrapped around her throat.

"You gon take it like the champ you are" I pulled her into a fiery passionate kiss. I pulled away as I kept hitting her spot.

"Baby I'm coming" She threw her head back against my chest.

"Fuck ... I'm right behind you baby" After a few more strokes we both released together. Both collapsing on the bed beside each other, coming down from the high. 

I took a few moments to catch my breathe before pulling her on my chest. 

"You still hungry baby" I asked as I rubbed along her back.

"I am, but I am way too tired to cook"

"Don't worry, I'll order something, go get yourself together"

"Ok" She leaned up and pecked my lips before getting up. I quickly ordered the food and got up changed the sheets. I took a quick shower in the guest room. By the time I was done, the doorbell rang. 

I went and grabbed the food, and walked in the kitchen. I set the containers out on the counter, as I felt arms wrap around me. 

"thank you for ordering food" I turned around bringing her into another kiss, lingering a little longer. 

"mhmm, you better stop before I have you laid out on this counter" I let go of her, handing her the container. "We watching our show?"

"Yeah we can" 

We took our food and headed upstairs, turning our show on and getting comfortable. After we were done I threw the containers away and we cuddled up together, letting sleep take over us.

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[moonydustx]

hey! how are you?

so, I've feeling kinda of pretty bad lately, and today I tried to bake a cake to my bf and his family and I half burned the cake and burned my hand on the process, so now I'm feeling like crap and my hand it's hurting like hell :')

could you please, if you want of course, write something similar to Sanji and fem reader? With a lot of comfort please? Your writting always comfort me, so thanks <3

hope you're good.

heey! First of all: I really hope you're feeling better! I think your request is so sweet, it's one of the things I can see Sanji doing. Despite all this womanizing side of him, I see him being a very sweet boyfriend.

I hope you like it and thank you very much for appreciating my work <3

--

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

The Cake

Sanji x F!Reader

warnings: just our dear F!Reader trying to cheer Sanji's spirits with food and having some incidents.

glossary: Ma belle - my beauty/my pretty, Mon coeur - my heart, amour - love (yes, I have him speaking French in this one because it's incredibly delicious to me)

Some days felt heavier than the next. Sometimes you just wanted to hide, or just avoid talking to anyone. This same maxim would apply to anyone, including Sanji.

You had noticed your boyfriend was feeling down the last few days, you just didn't know why. The times you asked, he would let the question fade away with some other compliment or conversation, avoiding the main topic.

Could something be wrong with you? No, impossible. Even discouraged, Sanji continued to treat you like the most precious thing his eyes could have seen. It should be something different. Maybe it wouldn't make him say what hurt him, but an idea that crossed your mind could help cheer him up.

The first step was to ensure that you were left to look after the ship while the others explored the island and he seemed to want to complicate that part.

"Ma belle, are you sure you don't want to go? I can stay." Sanji proposed and saw you vehemently deny it."

"Do not even think about it." you turned him around by the shoulders, guiding him to the outside of the Sunny. "You already have the shopping list and you're the cook."

"Okay." He found the behavior strange, but he didn't want to bother you with thoughts lost in his head. "I promise to come back soon!"

"Don't worry about that either." tiptoeing, you reached his cheek and placed a quick kiss. "Enjoy the day."

As soon as he left the ship, you started to put your plan into practice. Going through some books in the small library - which were mostly books for Robin and Chopper - you could find a copy of recipes. You knew some more basic cooking dishes, a cake was not included in it.

Remembering what you had seen Sanji do countless times for countless dishes, the first thing you did was separate ingredient by ingredient, quantity by quantity. Flour, eggs, baking powder, chocolate. It was impossible for a chocolate cake not to bring at least a little joy to him.

Dirtying a lot more dishes than you expected and spreading twice as much flour around the kitchen as you actually used in the recipe, you soon managed to put the dough on a small plate and then in the oven, crossing your fingers that it would work. The baking time passed quickly and you could see the cake rise through the glass.

"What are you doing?" Sanji's voice startled you, placing some bags on the table, he seemed genuinely curious. "It smells good."

"It's a little surprise for you, it's practically ready." you moved away from him, motioning for his arms to wrap around your waist.

"What did I do to deserve such a surprise?"

"Besides being a fantastic boyfriend, I've seen you a little sad." You said it clearly, you didn't provide reasons that prevent you from taking the information to him. "I'll understand if you don't want the cake or talk about it."

"Mon coeur, don't worry about me, really." the taste of cigarettes didn't bother you when his lips touched yours. "I swear this has nothing to do with you."

"Still, that doesn't stop me from wanting to see you happy, doesn't it?" he just agreed, you're letting go. "I'll go see our cake."

As soon as you were late opening the oven, the first thing that bothered you was the immediate hot breath in your face, but the cake looked beautiful. Under Sanji's watchful and caring gaze, you can feel the trust placed within you.

Confidence enough to simply forget about wearing any kind of gloves and place both hands straight onto the hot board. Your scream was the thing that brought Sanji back to reality.

"Shit!" you fell into a sitting position, the cake sliding down and stopping between your legs. "I can't believe I did that."

"Calm down, love." Sanji immediately - and wearing gloves - first took the cake and placed it on the top of the stove. Soon, he grabbed you under the arms and lifted you to your feet. His eyes met yours on the verge of tears. "Let me see."

"It hurts." Your voice came out much more sly than you expected, the burning sensation spread across both palms of your hand.

"I know babe, let me see, okay?" he asked gently, taking your wrists gently. "That was a bit ugly, we need to add water first."

With one hand gently holding both of your wrists and the other guiding you around your waist, Sanji took you to the edge of the sink, turning on the cold water.

"It's going to bother you a little." his warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for the sensation. Out of instinct, you tried to retract your arms, but his hand held yours firmly under the current of water. "I'm so sorry, just hold on for a little while, can you do this for me?"

"How could I be so stupid?" Taking advantage of the proximity, you let your body lean towards his chest. "I'm useless."

"Don't talk about yourself like that." some kisses were distributed on the top of your head and the hand that was on your waist, caressed one of your arms. "I think it's good."

He took your hands away from the water and could notice your palms were still red. Damn, that would bother you for a few days. Without much explanation, Sanji guided you to Sunny's infirmary and placed you sitting on the stretcher, while rummaging through some drawers.

"What are you looking for?" You asked, watching him. In fact, you just didn't want to have to look at your hands.

"Chopper once said he had separated an ointment…Here!" he lifted the small tube and walked towards you. "They're for burns. I'm going to pass them and then I need you to be a little more careful with your hands, what do you think mon coeur?"

With a murmur you nodded, watching him fill two fingers with the substance and lightly run them across the palm of your hand. Pausing every time he saw you squirm a little.

"You did very well." he warned as soon as he removed his fingers from your hand. "Now come here."

Intertwining part of your body with his again, Sanji guided you back to the kitchen and without any effort, placed you sitting on the counter. You watched him walk back and forth as he picked up plates, cutlery and cut the cake.

"I don't believe." you sighed in frustration, seeing that the cake had turned out much less soft than you expected. Instead of giving you a plate, Sanji placed a generous portion on a single plate. He took the first bite and prepared another. "It must be horrible."

"It's not horrible, amour, it's quite the opposite." he insisted and tasted the piece of cake once again. "Try it."

Opening your mouth and accepting the piece he offered you, you tasted the cake. It wasn't bad, actually. But it was far from what you had expected, especially visually.

"Cakes are complicated recipes and in addition to the ingredients, they also depend a lot on the temperature, how you open the oven and even the weather." a smile dared to cross your lips as you reveled in seeing Sanji explain with so much wisdom. "I bet you did everything right."

Another growl came from you, this time partly out of frustration and partly because you were eating yet another piece he was offering you.

"I really loved it." He placed a light kiss on your lips. "And well, about these last few days… Sometimes I miss Baratie, sometimes I think about how everything must be there."

"I can imagine." the saddened smile indicated that Sanji was still disturbed by such a feeling. "Sanji, you know we can write to them."

"I know, it's just a feeling that appears occasionally, but it soon passes." He tried to look excited and put the cake aside, fitting himself between your legs hanging on the counter. "Especially when I look at you, when I imagine everything we are and what we can be."

"I love you amour" You tried to bring your hand to his face, but the groan of pain came out automatically.

"And about that, young lady, can we make a deal?" he asked and you immediately agreed. "You will keep an eye on that hand and let me take care of and pamper you, no complaints."

"Sounds interesting to me."

"And once you get better, I can teach you a few things about cakes, what do you think?" your smile gave more than any other answer Sanji could have expected. "I love you and you will always be my favorite cook."