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coupsie-daisies · 4 months ago

Text

Kinktober '24: Phone Sex | Song Mingi

Pairing: Song Mingi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT) interact

Summary: Mingi has never wanted to make things weird between him and his best friend, but it's hard to deny her when she calls him, drunk and horny and begging him to talk her through it

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: drunk sex (kinda), they're both down so bad, nipple play for two seconds, open ending kinda

A/N: Guys, listen...I will have this shit done by the end of the year if it kills me. But I've had a lot going on so please accept this as my apology

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any platform is prohibited

Desperation was something you were very familiar with in many many ways. There was the desperation you felt when trying out for the dance team back in middle school, the way it had driven you to push yourself so hard you sprained your ankle. The desperation you'd felt during that entire recovery just to get back to normal so you could chase your dream again. The desperation you'd felt while applying for your dream university, and the desperation you'd felt when trying to find a decent job after you graduated.

Throughout every single one of those moments, Mingi had been at your side. You'd been best friends since you were kids, and you'd learned early on that you could count on him for anything. Truthfully, you sometimes felt like Mingi was too good to spend time with you. He was so kind and so creative and so goddamn talented that it almost hurt. But no amount of thinking changed the fact that he wanted to stick by your side.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he was the one to carry you home when you got a little too drunk at the bar you and your friends went out to. You were celebrating a birthday in the group, and you weren't the only one to get carried away, but all night Mingi had been keeping a careful eye on you, knowing that you were a lightweight no matter how much you denied it.

He'd dropped you off at your apartment after all was said and done, bringing you water and a snack and only leaving an hour later once he was certain you would be okay. Even so, he made you pinky swear to call him if you needed him for anything.

And really, you hadn't planned on calling him. You weren't so drunk that you couldn't see straight or that you were puking your guts out. You were just dizzy, and way less uptight than you usually were. Okay, maybe you weren't thinking right, because all you'd been able to think about since Mingi had practically carried you home was how good it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and how pretty he looked when he was so focused on taking care of you.

It was far from the first time you'd had such thoughts about your best friend, but you figured that was probably normal for anyone with a super hot, incredibly kind, really very hot best friend. It was okay, you reminded yourself, because those thoughts were between you and your bed. Nobody else needed to know, and if nobody knew it couldn't make things weird.

But the lingering alcohol in your mind had you forgetting that mantra, because it wasn't even fifteen minutes later before arousal was flooding your senses and your hand found your phone.

It rang a couple of times, and a moment of doubt tried to seep in, but it was quickly shut out by the sound of Mingi's voice.

"Are you okay?" He asked immediately.

"I'm okay. Need your help," You said, pout evident in your voice. Your free hand pushed your shirt up your stomach, fingertips dragging along your tummy, down to trace the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Should I come back? What's wrong?"

You slid your hand lower, pushing your pants down your hips and tucking your phone against your ear to use the other to get them out of the way.

"I keep thinking about you. Is that wrong?" You asked, closing your eyes as your fingers found their way to your covered core. "You looked so good tonight. You always look good."

You heard his breath hitch, and you sighed in response.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. You couldn't see him, but he was parked outside his apartment, one hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, the other trying not to drop his phone.

He listened to the catch in your voice, the tiny hum you let out, and god he tried not to imagine you in some filthy position underneath him. Certainly not a new thought for him, but one he knew he shouldn't be entertaining in the moment.

"I want you so bad, Min, need you." You were basically whining now, rubbing your clit and slowly soaking through your panties at the thought of him. "Been thinking about you touching me for so long. You would, right? I see how you look at me. Never wanted to make it weird but fuck,"

Mingi grunted out a curse under his breath.

"You're drunk," He reminded you. "You probably won't even remember this in the morning. You should go to sleep."

"Don't leave me like this. Please? Just need to hear your voice, wanna hear you talk me through it." You begged, fingers getting more frantic as you sought out your own pleasure.

Mingi tipped his head back into the headrest, his cock twitching with interest. He was already half hard and getting uncomfortable in his tight pants.

"Promise me you won't regret this," He ordered, voice lower now. The sound of it send a wave of arousal all the way to the tips of your toes and you squirmed in your bed.

"I promise. I swear, I won't regret it. I promise."

The desperation in your voice should have embarrassed you, but you were never embarrassed with Mingi.

He reached down, palming himself through his pants and willing himself to last when you sounded so fucked out and he hadn't even said anything yet.

"Are you still wearing your pajamas?" He asked, squeezing his bulge and biting back a groan. You hummed affirmatively. "Take them off, want you naked for me baby."

You didn't hesitate to do as he said, putting your phone on speaker and shuffling around on your bed until you could kick all of your clothes away.

"Good job, baby," He hummed, and you couldn't hold back a surprised whimper at his praise. "That's what you like? My baby likes when I'm nice to her?"

You gasped, fingers slipping between your wet folds as he spoke.

"Yeah, like that." You agreed, nodded even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"Can you play with your nipples for me? Wanted to forever."

Mingi worked his pants down until he could pull his aching dick out of his boxers, stroking himself slowly. He was already leaking precum, but who could blame him when the girl he'd been pining after for years decided to call him up and beg him to fuck her?

You listened eagerly, both hands coming up to knead your breasts before circling your thumbs around your hardening nipples. You gasped softly, flicking over them back and forth a couple times before twisting them a little harder. You could hear Mingi's breathing as it picked up, his ears trained on each tiny gasp and whine that you let out.

"Move your hands down. Want you to touch your sides. They're sensitive, right?" He didn't have to ask to know. He'd found that out completely on accident back in college and it lived in the back of his mind, sparking far too much interest in what other reactions he could pull out of you.

You slid your hands down lower, along the curve of your chest, down your sternum, then up along your sides with feather-light touches that made you squirm. You dragged your nails dully along your side, then down your stomach, wishing beyond anything you could fully comprehend that it was Mingi touching you like this, that his hands were exploring you. You moaned pathetically, a broken keen of his name.

"I'm here, pretty girl, don't worry. You're doing so good for me." Mingi grunted out. He'd been trying to resist touching himself, too afraid that he'd blow the second you opened your mouth, but his cock was throbbing and leaking and simply begging for his attention, and he couldn't deny it anymore. He wrapped his hand around his length, jerking himself off with slow, languid strokes.

"Want you to open your legs nice and wide for me," He told you, listening to the rustle of the sheets as you moved. "Go ahead and touch your thighs. How's that feel?"

Your back arched, chasing some sort of friction now that your thighs were separated, and your hands stroked along the insides of them, kneading the flesh the way you liked.

"Not good enough. Need you, don't wanna do it myself." You huffed.

"I know, but I can't come back yet. Just gotta take care of your pussy for me, okay? I'll make it up to you, I promise." He purred, and you relaxed, his voice running through you like molten lava.

"Can I touch myself, Min? Please?" You asked, and he shivered at the desperation in your voice. He'd never heard you like this before, and whatever string of self control that was keeping him from taking you every time he saw you was beginning to snap.

"Go ahead, baby, play with your clit for me." He ordered firmly now, stroking himself faster. Your hand flew to your core, fingers circling your clit and spreading your wetness against it. You let out the most debauched whimper of relief at the feeling, hips jolting as you moved fast and hard, still too intoxicated to be skilled with your fingers and not entirely caring when you could hear the sound of Mingi's hand around his cock, and his breath picking up.

"God, you're so wet." He groaned, tipping his head back against the headrest again. He could hear you, and what he wouldn't give to have you on his tongue, or have your walls wrapped like a vice around his dick. His head was fogging up with thoughts of you, your scent and your pretty lips and the way you said his name.

"Mingi, can I put them inside?" You asked, fingers dipping closer to your entrance before pulling back to strum against your clit again. "Wanna be full of you. Wish you were here, need your dick so bad."

Any shame you'd felt upon calling him in the first place was gone, and he was going absolutely batshit about it.

"Go ahead baby, let's see how many you can take." He urged. You didn't hesitate to slide two fingers into yourself, wincing a little at the immediate stretch, but the burn felt so good you didn't care. You rocked your hips up to meet each thrust of your fingers, starting slow before becoming a little more frantic, pushing them all the way to the third knuckles. You were soaking yourself, fingers curling up against the spot that had your head spinning.

You were hardly aware of the way you were babbling his name, begging him for more as you managed to squeeze a third finger into yourself.

"Good girl, keep going. Sound so pretty, can't wait to have you on my dick." He stroked himself faster, harder, knowing he was nearing his end. He wanted to drag this out, but he was struggling to deny himself the satisfaction of finally getting off to the sound of you begging for him. This had to be a dream, he hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of blessing, but there you were, fingering yourself dumb for him anyway.

"Close," You warned him, grinding your palm into your clit. Your fingers weren't usually enough, but the sound of him on the line, the image of his large frame engulfing you as he split you open. God, and his hands, they were so much bigger than yours, would fill you up so much better. You didn't even register your orgasm building as high as it did until you were dangling from the edge, thighs shaking with the exertion of bucking your hips up into your hand. "Mingi, I need to cum, please can I?"

The sound of you, breathless and begging and audibly wrecked was too much for him.

"Please cum for me," He groaned, voice tight as he bit back his own orgasm, pushing his limits just to hear the way you nearly sobbed his name. Your orgasm shook through you, fingers messily working yourself through it and pushing it as long as you could, and Mingi couldn't take it.

He spilled into his hand, strings of his own cum spilling over his fingers and onto his pants. He sighed, jerking himself through it despite the mess and imagining that it was you he was making a mess on. When the bliss cleared in his mind, he realized that you were still there on the other end, still breathing hard and presumably coming down from your own high.

There was silence for a few moments, and guilt weighed in his mind as he wiped his hand off on one of the spare tissues he kept in his car. You didn't speak either, too buzzed from the alcohol and the orgasm, and your mind weighing heavy with sleep.

"Mingi?" You said finally, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. "Will you come back? Don't wanna sleep alone."

He listened to your voice, so heavy with sleep, and so free of any concern about what had just happened. He wanted to argue that it was a bad idea, but despite everything, the two of you still felt so normal. He hummed.

"Give me a little bit, I'll be there soon." He promised, not mentioning that he needed to clean himself up and change his clothes before he could drive back. You didn't argue, just mumbled an okay, and a quiet 'I love you'. That was so normal for both of you, but this time it felt different, and Mingi had to wonder if that was all in his head.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 6 months ago

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broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside.

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc.

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

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astonmartinii · 2 years ago

Note

Hey, 👋🤗🤗

If you are still taking requests,

Can I ask for Toto wolff with Lewis Hamilton's older sister who is also a physiotherapist for Mercedes.

Big love 💝💝

falling for you | toto wolff social media au

pairing: toto wolff x hamilton!physiotherapist!reader

the mercedes team principle takes a bit of a tumble, and god forbid he takes advantage of the extra attention from his wife

masterlist

mercedesamgf1

liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 1,093,778 others

tagged: yourusername

mercedesamgf1: we can confirm the big boss took a bit of a tumble earlier this afternoon, and we can confirm the only big injury was to his dignity. luckily for toto, mercedes physiotherapist y/n hamilton was on hand to look after him

view all comments

user1: bro i know that man is HEATED that sky had caught him falling

user2: i too would fall over and throw my back out for y/n hamilton to help me

lewishamilton: he's in good hands i can assure you

yourusername: you know it ;)

lewishamilton: okay don't make it weird

user3: i love how she said no to the merc uniform

yourusername: it's ugly :(

mercedesamgf1: y/n that's not nice

yourusername: my bad ... please still pay me

pierregasly: ouch i think i hurt my leg

lewishamilton: don't even go there

pierregasly: damn

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton and 301,871 others

yourusername: days off looking after this old man

view all comments

user4: okay but like they would be a hot couple

user5: i am seeing your vision

lewishamilton: how many tries did that picture take?

yourusername: only 12, toto isn't a complete caveman you know

user6: so they're actually on their own? i thought lewis would be with them

lewishamilton: god no, i wouldn't spend any extra time with those two, i wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy

user7: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user8: so... they're together?

georgerussell63: who let him out of the house looking like that?

yourusername: he's still your boss you know?

danielricciardo: russell george i am hurt that's a beautiful jumper

lewishamilton

liked. by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,309,876 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: family time

view all comments

user9: so we're just dropping the family bomb now?

user10: can y/n look after me after she gave me WHIPLASH

yourusername: yellow is so my colour oh wow

lewishamilton: i think it's our colour

landonorris: can it be all of our colour?

yourusername: no ❤️

user11: i am still not over lewis now considering toto family

georgerussell63: i am feeling left out

yourusername: well unless you leave carmen for roscoe tough luck

georgerussell63: can i not just have a good faith invite to family dinners?

yourusername: no carmen, no entry

carmenmundt: ❤️

mercedesamgf1

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 881,098 others

tagged: yourusername

mercedesamgf1: mama y papa

view all comments

user14: do they need a third? a dog? a maid? i'll do pretty much anything

user15: i love the fact that from toto faceplanting in the garage we got the reveal of the most iconic f1 couple ever (fight me)

yourusername: zoo wee mama who is that tall glass of water in the second slide 😮‍💨

lewishamilton: i may have wingmanned you but keep that stuff to yourself

yourusername: allow me to thirst over my fiance on main please

lewishamilton: he can't even see it though

yourusername: but yall can so you know to BACK OFF

user16: the way y/n is posted about by merc just as much as lewis at this point

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 550,871 others

yourusername: he only needed a kiss to make it better

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user17: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

user18: the way this could be about either of them

lewishamilton: i'm never gonna hear the end of this am i?

yourusername: nope

georgerussell63: and i thought i was obnoxious on instagram

yourusername: careful georgie i have many photos of toto shirtless but their for my eyes only

georgerussell63: i don't want to see them

user19: we DO

user20: please share ma'am

user21: didn't your mum ever teach you that sharing is caring?

note: i know this is a bit short, but i hope you enjoyed nonetheless !!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff instagram au #toto wolff oneshot

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coupsvi · 1 year ago

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S.COUPS Military Enlistment : coupsvi rant

Hey! So I've seen many people talking about how Cheol's exemption from both military and public service means that his injury is worse than we thought, but that may not be the reason.

I left a comment on one post talking about this, but I thought I'd post it so that anyone coming to the following tags could see it.

Yes, his exemption means that his injury was bad. However, they said the surgery went well. When ACL's heal, they almost never regain the same strength as before, but that doesn't mean you can't be activve anymore. It's also weaker and more prone to tearing again, and having an injury that causes you to be unable to walk would serve no purpose in the military.

That being said, I think the main reason for him being exempt from service was that the risk of him re-injuring himself was too threatening, since even those going into public service need to undergo a period of military training. There's not much of point to enlist someone who's likely to be hurt during basic training, so exemption is just a way to avoid that possibility. It's been about 6 months since his surgery, and full-recovery of an ACL injury typically takes around 9 months. Though he's resuming SEVENTEEN activies alongside Jeonghan soon, that doesn't mean he's fully recovered.

At the same time, we still need to be supportive of him. I'm sure it's common knowledge that enlisting is a big part of every (required) Korean citizen's life, and for him to no longer be able to experience this big event may be upsetting for him. Don't give him hate. This entire process couldn't have been easy for him, so we need to give him the most support we can and DON'T SPREAD HATE!

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totallynotsloughjykk · 5 months ago

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okay rant because I need to hhhhh I'm so tired of people misinterpreting mu qing. no he is not a heartless monster nor is he a tsundere baby. he's a complex character and people need to stop dumbing him down to either good/bad mu qing values logic before anything. he thinks everything through too much and only considers feelings after, which makes him come off as unempathetic and uncaring. that's his main flaw. he cannot deal with any emotions and hides behind an indifferent/arrogant mask despite it being far from his actual self. his avoidance with vulnerability is understandable considering just how much he had to watch himself during his teenhood and probably even childhood he's hypervigilant and gets defensive the second he feels any form of attack coming towards him. for example, him freaking out over the red coral pearl going missing during the xianle era - which, again, is understandable since that would've ruined his reputation completely. he's also terrible with showing affection and care and that's another reason why he always come off as so mean and rude mu qing is also deeply insecure; he suddenly turned his attention to hong'er after xie lian praised his skill with a saber and he found reasons to kick him out fast (I'll get onto this later). he jumps any time he's handed a broom and he's also pretty easily envious. he doesn't usually go far beyond petty words and punches - like xie lian said, he's spiteful enough to spit in someone's cup, not poison it his flaws are well thought-out and make a lot of sense for his character. you can trace his behavior patterns back to his past; for example, his hypervigilance and arrogant mask comes the fact that everyone always expected the worst of him. the second he was even suspected to be in the wrong everyone turned on him without a doubt, so he grew wary of what he did and what he said. and for the arrogant mask, he couldn't prove otherwise at all - who would listen? no one. so he just gave up and got used to it mu qing has his flaws but he also has his qualities; he's a kind person beneath everything, shockingly enough. he handed poor children cherries after he was beaten up for picking them, he brought feng xin and xie lian rice and medicine after he left, he helped jian lan give birth, he disguised himself to help xie lian and he took a whole cursed shackle for refusing to hurt him. he can only show affection through actions and it's still uncomfortable for his deeds to be recognized since he's already so used to the selfish, cold and indifferent tag everyone slapped on him so he never expects any gratitude or anything in return at all also controversial take but hua cheng was wrong to hold a grudge against mu qing and feng xin. first of all, the feng xin grudge was entirely unnecessary (for mu qing it's a lot more understandable) but that's for another rant. second of all, while it is, again, understandable from hua cheng's POV, from an outside perspective it's just.. wrong. hua cheng will go towards extreme lengths to anyone who even mildly hurts off xie lian, and that's one of his flaws as a character. I love hua cheng deeply and that's part of what makes him beautifully complex. he's overprotective after seeing his beloved hurt so many times by so many people while he couldn't do much about it. he views xie lian through rose-colored lenses and I doubt he'll let go of the way he sees mu qing any time soon considering just how heavy of a grudge he held and how complicated their friendship/relationship in general is. they don't get along and until they formally talk things out, give them 200 years to warm up to each other they'd still probably stab each other if left unattended

#kk's rants #I think I'm gonna do more of these since the amount of weird takes on here scares me #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #character study #mu qing #hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #mxtx #feng xin #huaqing #mo xiang tong xiu #mulian #xianle trio #but like remix since it's hua cheng xie lian and mu qing

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

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Title: Crawling Back to You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After some particularly awful shit goes down, Javi distances himself from you. But he always comes crawling back.

Tags: Angst, smut, more angst, reference to s2e3 events w Carillo, Javi sleeps with Gabriela (that’s the one from S2E3 y’all), sad!Javi, self hating!Javi, references to blood, wounds, rot, etc, all metaphorical, drinking/alcohol, as always: excessive cursing, me trying to speak spanish (translations provided), arguing, manhandling, dry humping, fingering, oral f receiving, face riding but while lying down, hair pulling, actual riding, Javi very briefly picks you up, that one position from s1e2, unprotected PiV, creampie, Javi crying, Javi yelling, reader yelling, did I mention angst? WC: 2130

A/N: I'm sorry? And thanks to the HBH for beta reading <3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do

Javi has avoided you for two weeks now. He got himself involved in some truly fucked up shit with Carillo and couldn’t bear to face you after that. He couldn’t let you see him like that – completely ashamed of himself, broken. He went to Gabriela instead. He knew she wouldn’t ask too many questions, that she would let him take out his anger and helplessness and shame on her.

When he got home that night he still almost called you, just to hear your voice. You calm something inside him, something dark and violent. But it feels like a sin to expose you to it in the first place. He’s terrified of letting you in. Sure, he’s afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of giving his heart to you and possibly watching you crush it in your hands. But what he’s really scared of is letting you get close enough to see the blood in his teeth, to smell the rot in his chest. Afraid his darkness will infect you, ruin the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He is a bad man and you are so so good. You deserve better than him.

And yet he can’t truly let you go. Just another reason he doesn’t deserve you. He’s selfish enough to keep going back to you, to keep knocking on your apartment door and burying his pain in your body, only to tuck tail and run the second you push him for more. Most selfish of all is how much he wants more with you. Wants to come home to you every day. To cook dinner with you, to share a bed with you, to share his life with you. He wants everything you want and more and he’s terrified and horrified at the prospect.

You haven’t called him. Maybe you finally listened to him. Finally accepted he’s not what you want or need. Do you think about calling him? Maybe after a bottle of wine, listening to your maudlin records and relaxing on your couch. Do you drink yourself into a stupor before you can make that mistake like he does?

He dreams about you, about your body wrapped tightly around his, your nails dragging down his back so sharply it snaps him awake. He finds his whiskey glass turned over and spilled on his couch. His back aches from falling asleep sitting up. He eyes the phone.

Fuck calling.

Javi stares at the brass numbers on your apartment door. What the fuck is he doing here? He just can’t leave well enough alone. He pounds on the door until you answer.

“No.” You slam the door closed.

He bangs on the door again, fist pausing mid-air as the door swings open.

“You can’t just come crawling back to me when you get tired of your whores, Javi.” You look beautiful. Standing in your doorway in one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. Righteous anger puts a fire in your eyes, gives a hard set to your jaw.

“No es así y tú lo sabes.” (It’s not like that and you know it).” Javi steps closer to you, you don’t step back. “Me haces falta. (I miss you). Let me in.”

“Oh you fucking miss me? It’s been two weeks. Y no llamaste. (and you didn’t call).” You didn’t call him either, but that’s not the point. You didn’t show up at his apartment.

“Sé, lo siento. (I know, I’m sorry).”

“No. No lo eres. Déjame en paz.” (No. You’re not. Leave me alone.).

“No puedo. You know I can’t.” Javi looks defeated, run down. You know he needs you. Despite the advice of everyone you know and your own better judgment, you step aside and let him in. “Gracias, cariño.” And he sounds so relieved, you almost feel bad for keeping him out, for not calling him. Almost.

He closes the door behind him and you stalk off to the kitchen, still not quite ready to face him. You pour yourself a glass of whiskey and shoot it, wincing a little at the burn, before grabbing another glass and pouring one for each of you. You set both on the coffee table and sit on the couch, folding your legs beneath you.

“Why are you here, Javi?” He’d asked himself as much.

He picks his glass up off the table and sits on the couch next to you. You watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I need you. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Start with why you disappeared.”

“Classified.”

“Bullshit.”

Javi sets his glass down and manhandles you into his lap. He crashes his mouth into yours and at first you don’t even respond to his touch, but it doesn’t take long to fall into him. You can’t deny that you’ve been miserable without him. Craving his touch, missing him so much it hurts. He’s like an itch you can never scratch enough to satisfy. A festering wound that won’t ever heal. So you may as well pick at the scab.

Javi pulls your crotch flush with his. He’s already hard against you. You bury your hands in his too-long hair where it curls at the nape and lose yourself in him. You grind down on him and he thrusts up against you, the denim of his jeans and hard line of his cock creating delicious friction even through your panties.

He breaks the kiss, dragging his lips up your jaw, and whispers in your ear, “Can you come for me like this?” You don’t answer him, simply grind down on him harder, faster, nearly rubbing your thighs raw on his jeans. He peels his t-shirt off your body, throws it behind the couch, and immediately sucks a nipple between his plush lips. He bites down and it sends a jolt straight through your core.

“Fuck, Javi. More, baby. More,” you whine. He grabs your hips and drags you along his clothed length hard and fast. You feel your core tighten around nothing, and a keening moan falls from your lips as you come.

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before he’s thrown you onto the couch. He drags your ruined underwear down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, and buries his face between your thighs. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers inside you, pumping slowly and rolling your clit gently between his teeth.

You arch up into him, and instead of pinning you down like he often does, he lets you grind your pussy on his face. The hard ridge of his nose, the rough drag of his mustache, the plush softness of his lips, so many different sensations hitting you as his fingers plunge into your cunt, curling into your g-spot over and over. It’s completely and utterly overwhelming. You fist his hair and hold him tight to you as you ride his face, and he moans into your cunt. He fucking loves it when you let go like this, unabashed moans filling the room, probably filling the whole apartment complex.

You fall apart again, like this, hips stuttering to a stop as you squeeze his fingers so hard it almost hurts. Javi peers up at your blissed out face, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, takes in just how beautiful you are. He drags his tongue through your slick one more time before hovering over you and licking into your mouth.

You suck your own slick off his tongue, licking into his mouth as you feel him shove his jeans down enough to free his cock. He pulls back, sits on the couch and drags you into his lap. You straddle him and he helps you line up before grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him.

You collapse forward, the feeling of him inside you is like being split apart and it would probably hurt if you weren’t so wet. He grabs your hair and pulls backward until your back is arched. “Montarme, cariño.” (Ride me, baby). You start moving your hips, slowly picking up in speed until you’re bouncing on his cock so hard and fast you can barely catch your breath.

He hitches your thighs around his waist and wraps his arm around your back, dropping you on the couch. He shoves his jeans down, stepping out of them, and drops one knee to the couch. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his hips. You cling to his shoulders with your left arm and drop your other one behind you for leverage, rolling your hips into his. He meets you with his own thrusts, holding your body to his and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He’s so close, you’re so tangled up in each other, he’s so fucking deep inside you, barely even pulling out before rolling back up into you. You fall back onto the couch and he follows, still holding you in his arms as he fucks you. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, rolling over your body and giving you chills as your cunt flutters around his cock.

He comes with you, fully collapsing down onto you. You should feel crushed under his weight, but it’s comforting. He holds you so tightly it’s like he’s afraid to let go of you. Afraid that when this moment is over you’ll kick him out and he’ll be alone again. Afraid this is the last time he’ll ever get to touch you.

You pet his hair gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It’s late. You’re so fucked out you feel high and maybe the whiskey is loosening your tongue a little.

“I don’t understand, Javi. If it feels like this, why won’t you love me? What more could you want from me? What am I missing that you need?” This is going to ruin everything.

Javi pushes up on his elbows to look you in the eye. “Cariño. It’s not you–”

“I swear to God, Javi, if you use that line on me I will burn your apartment down with you in it.”

“You don’t understand. You won’t understand. I’m not good. I’m only going to get you hurt or killed.”

“You already are hurting me, Javi,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him back down to you.

He’s silent for a long time before he half whispers into your shoulder, “I’m just so afraid.” His voice breaks and you feel a tear land on your skin. You stroke his hair, drag your fingers along his heated skin.

“I know you, Javi. I know who you are and I don’t care. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time. I can’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard I fucking try. It’s torture.”

Javi shoves himself away from you, standing and grabbing his jeans off the floor.“That’s my fucking point!” You flinch at his volume. He pulls his jeans on, grabs his boots and crams his feet into them, already heading to the door. He turns around. “I am only ever going to hurt you. I am a bad fucking person. I hurt people on purpose and you are not immune from that just because I care about you or because I love you.”

You stand and try to take his face in your hands but he grabs your arms and holds you away from him. “I’d let you crack open my chest, rib by rib, while I watched if it meant I could have you. If it meant you’d be mine. Stop running away from me! I’m begging you!” You’re sobbing, yelling, pleading with him to just listen.

Javi looks at you, brow furrowed, big brown eyes shiny and bloodshot with tears. He lets go of you and steps away slowly, putting distance between the two of you. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He drops his head and closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and walks out the door.

He knows he will come crawling back to you, tomorrow or a week from now, he can’t ever stay away. But maybe this time the wound will be too raw. He will have hurt you too much, and you will shut him out. He fucking hates it, hates the thought of being without you, hates the way it feels like he’s clawing out his own organs hurting you like this. But this hurt is so much less than what he would do to you given enough time. This wound will scab over, form an angry scar, he will have left his mark on you. But you will heal.

dividers by @saradika

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owliellder · 1 year ago

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

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dootznbootz · 1 month ago

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I don’t have a link but I saw a post along the lines of “EPIC fans trying to gaslight themselves into thinking Odysseus wouldn’t cheat (he does in the books)” and I nearly had a conniption.

Some people WERE arguing he was assaulted, but other people were saying it depends on the interpretation and saying he has a child with Circe and that he stays on the island with her for a year. I also saw someone say he was just lying about being assaulted on another post about it.

The Odyssey/EPIC fandom is so exhausting I’ve thought about blocking everything sometimes ngl. It’s so hard to filter out posts like that. But there’s so much amazing art and content about it I don’t want to stop seeing it.

No, like that's the struggle of it.

I Love Epic and I technically got into the Odyssey BECAUSE of Epic. But I'm a hardcore Odyssey girly. I adore it so much. I've read 8 translations at this point because I love it so much and it's fun for me! And Epic is in no way a replacement for the Odyssey (Jay even says that it's not! he's simply inspired by the Odyssey) and it feels like high quality fanfiction of the Odyssey (FUN! JOYOUS WHIMSY! I still like it! :3 ).

But holy shit, like, both Epic AND Tagamemnon fans can be so fucking exhausting. (I am a fan of both. I can say this.)

(Obviously I'm not talking about everyone. <3 I've made many friends and have met lovely people in both fandoms.)

Like while yes, Epic!Odysseus isn't coerced/raped by either of the goddesses, that's simply because of the fact that Jay simply felt like he wasn't well equipped to handle such dark topics to that extent. And I honestly respect him for that! He knows his limits with the story he wanted to tell and that's good! And in general I think he did a fantastic job handling the aspects of it he did touch on (Coercion with Circe's threatening in "There Are Other Ways" is done well imo.)

(ngl, I kind of take back what I said about "Not Sorry for Loving You". I think a lot of my reaction was initially from my fear of how fandom would react. But I've been delightfully surprised seeing how (for the most part) Epic Fandom has really come through to show the "fucked up-ness" of that song)

THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT ODYSSEUS IN THE ODYSSEY IS A SHITTIER HUSBAND BECAUSE HE, IN THE ANCIENT TEXT, CANNOT SAY NO TO A GODDESS.

Greek Mythology isn't like Percy Jackson where 12 year old Percy beat Ares. (I was a PJO KID TOO!) It's not "Odysseus didn't try hard enough" fucking victim blaming btw because HE LITERALLY CANNOT REFUSE OR THEN HE'LL (AND HIS FRIENDS IN THE CASE OF CIRCE) WOULD DIE!!!

Like I wrote a whole ass essay on Circe's Situation (I feel so preachy and shitty about having to constantly bring it up but I will as much as I have to to get people to listennnn) and in general, if you can't see what's happening with Calypso, you've got your head up your ass and/or are just looking away because you don't like the actual implications of what's happening. For the main "gripe" I've seen with Calypso with how "He enjoyed her company at first", @lyculuscaelus has a great essay breaking that down.

And before? ODYSSEUS HAS NO LISTED CONCUBINES! And he brings up Penelope often in the Iliad!

And the whole "lying about being assaulted", I'm sorry but if someone is holding the "Men were so sexist that they couldn't possibly care about the women in their lives or have been victims" idea, then why would Odysseus willfully share that he was raped by women? Who, as they say, were viewed beneath him? Why would he lie about something that would put him in such a humiliating light?

Btw, Menelaus (sealy boy!!!) even says that he's being held captive by Calypso with what he learned from Proteus! Menelaus isn't known for telling stories!

I feel bad as like, I used to LOVE going into the tags and finding creators I haven't seen before and cheering them on! Art and Fics and yay! But like... It's sometimes so disheartening going in there and seeing nonsense or bad takes ;~;

Honestly, as much as I DO enjoy Epic, I think that hopefully once the hype dies down a lil, it'll chill out more :') We'll all be okay!

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brutally-loving · 2 months ago

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Welcome to my fuckass self-shipping blog. I am KRUEGER and you may use HE/THEY pronouns for me. Main blog is @esotericdivinity. My art account is @tenacious-brute. I would love to make more self-shipping friends, especially if our f/os share a base media!! Uhh, yes I will talk about my favorite men here- And only here. Comprehensive list of all of the ?? fuckers I have, and my DNI list below.

The Favorites, my fictional husbandssssss

I won't even lie: I don't really share my mains. I will indicate if I do or do not! And if I don't, I will not observe anyone else who selfships with them, I will ignore it. I also would possibly block if I am harassed?- But I can't foresee this happening. I am so so happy to see people who share f/os from the same media!!! Please come talk to me.

I'm gonna sort these by who I'm most fixated on followed by who I don't share, to who I do.

Choso Kamo, non-sharing (Jujutsu Kaisen) - HELLO??? UGH DOWN BAD- I'm so down bad I'm kicking my feet I'm punching mattresses it's an issue now. Sighs he's my new boyfriend AND my current fixation. Yeah. If anyone wants to talk about him with me, has any headcanons or anything, I'll love ya forever 💪🔥 (you will now find anything relating to him under the tag #krue's canon boyfriend)

Aoi Todo, non-sharing (Jujutsu Kaisen) - OH NO ANOTHER- ANOTHER FIXATION. He's my second boyfriend alongside Choso. I need him. I'm gonna get aggressive about it I need everyone to know how much I love him SOB SOB SOB (I'm working on getting him a tag alongside Choso... sighs. My men 💞💞) if anyone ever sends me asks about him I'll giggle btw

Granolah, non-sharing (Dragon Ball Super) - I've had him for like. 2.5 years. Maybe more actually... anyway, he's adored. I would punch walls over him lowkey. I could yap about him tons at some point... But I won't unless prompted!! HES MY HUSSBAN 💞💞

Clavicus Vile, non-sharing (The Elder Scrolls) - I LOVE HIM YAYAYAYAYAYA He's so. Grr. I cannot defend him or my love for him but?? Whatever! He's him 💞 i have had him for over 2 years, despite consuming his media for over 10. It's kind of crazy dydhdhd. Oh well!!

Silvers Rayleigh, non-sharing (One Piece) - Actually a perfect husband idk. Uhh Rayleigh when he runs with Roger is the one I’m fixated on and absolutely adoing of. Anyway he’s gorgeous and I think we should hold hands and watch documentaries… I've had him... for not long. But this doesn't make him any less important!

Troy Calypso, sharing?? (Borderlands 3) - He is NUTS and terrible and horrible and I NEED HIM- I cannot defend this fixation. I have an AU written for him, and that is where he is my f/o!! I adore him thoroughly.

Caesar Zeppeli and Joseph Joestar, sharing (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure) - They belong together. Who am I to separate them? Polycule go???- Oh well! I might talk more about Caesar bc I feel like he needs more love, but I adore them together and want us all to hold hands. Ugh. They're everything.

Caesar came first, back in 2020, but Joseph slowly won me over through 2021-2022. And here we are. I adore them both so, and I think that I should be able to love them so so much 💞 pretend Joseph doesn't have canon events that are important to some things... I need him with Caesar and I- In my mind, they're in a vacuum and that's it. Susie Q loves us all and her and I go to the spa together btw ☝️

Esidisi, sharing (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)!! - He was debated since the last time I fixated on JJBA (2022 summer or so??), but only recently did I really take him in. I'm always down to yap about him, but he probably isn't as prominent in my brain as others.

Corazon, sharing (One Piece) - I haven't mentioned him tons but he belongs on here too tbh. Sending him so many kisses!!!

Will update as needed? I guess- thanks for reading!! Please please feel free to ask questions- (Last updated: February 3rd, 2025)

DNI: those who share the aforementioned characters that I do not, proshippers (specifically those who condone or romanticize pedophilia, incest, beastiality, rape, etc etc), anti-lgbtq+ people, racists, sexists, literally anyone who's just kind of harass-y?? Yeah please don't interact. I really appreciate it because that shits just not cool.

I write and draw commissions, and will take donations!!

P@ypal is [email protected]

Ca$happ is $sharpset

and ko-fi is here!

#self ship community #selfshipping #fictional others #selfship intro #nonsharing selfship #huzzah!! meet my fucks.#blog intro!!

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hintsofhoney · 2 years ago

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Radio and the Rain

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When a bad storm forces you and Dean apart on a hunt, he realizes just how much you mean to him.

Tags: 18+, smut, making love, p in v, all that jazz... nothing too crazy

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Hello, I'm back after almost 6 months. Moving across the country (again) among other big life events (all good ones!) gave me the worst writer's block of all time, but thanks to my friends (@soaringeag1e & @emoryhemsworth), writing this fic per their suggestion (based off Radio and the Rain by Chris Young) is what finally pulled me out of it! Beta'd by my angels @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean. Alright, hope you all enjoy, and I promise I'll be back again with more things soon!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Y/N!” Dean calls out, doubtful that you can hear him over the sound of the rain coming down as he tries to ignore the panic building inside him. His hair is stuck to his forehead from the downpour, water droplets streaming down his face as he tries to shield himself from the weather. It’s no use. He’s soaked to the bone – he’s not sure he could have worn enough layers to keep him dry, not in this storm – and the darkness of the forest seems to go on forever. He could have sworn there was a town nearby – some light pollution would be really helpful right about now – but he seems to be shit out of luck. Thunder booms above him, almost deafening, and he keeps on what he hopes is the right path, his heart rate steadily increasing. He needs to find you.

“Y/N!” he yells again after another minute passes. If he’s soaked, he can’t imagine what you must be. He remembers what you’re wearing; skinny jeans, a thin green t-shirt, a black faux leather jacket, hunting boots. Normally, he doesn’t complain about your refusal to wear more layers, but right now, ‘I told you so’ is on the tip of his tongue. He would need a large amount of hands to count how many times he’s told you to prepare for anything , and that a flimsy t-shirt and jacket weren’t gonna cut it, but in your defense, this storm came out of nowhere. He had to give you that, at least.

“Dean!” he whips his head around at the faint sound of his name making its way through the rain, and yells yours out once more before making his way towards your voice. His eyes are adjusted enough to the dark to where he can make out silhouettes of fallen trees ahead of him, stepping over them with little caution as you call out to him again. He has to make sure you’re okay. He has to get to you.

“I’m here, Y/N!” he yells, “Where are you!?”

“Dean!”

He hears it, clear as day from behind him. He turns around in time to see the outline of your soaked body appearing from behind the trees.

“Y/N!” He rushes to you, taking your cold hand in his, and you can’t tell if he’s relieved or angry to see you – or a little bit of both. You should have listened to him when he told you splitting up was a bad idea, but completing the hunt had been the only thing on your mind, Dean’s lectures about safety be damned. “Jesus, you’re freezing,” he comments, like he isn’t an icicle himself. He wants to say, ‘I told you splitting up was a bad idea’, but he holds his tongue. He can lecture you later.

He grabs you firmly by the shoulders, looking you up and down. “Are you okay?”

With the rain pouring down, he sounds like he’s whispering, even though you can tell he’s only a decibel away from full-on screaming. Lightning strikes in the distance, and you’re able to get a clear view of his face for a brief moment. Water streaming down his clenched jaw, hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, worried green eyes searching yours. They land on your cheek, which you think is bleeding thanks to the branch that smacked you in the face a few minutes ago, and you roll your eyes at his over-concern.

“I’m fine, Dean. It’s just a scratch.”

“C’mon,” he replies gruffly, pulling you into his coat in an attempt to shield you from the rain. “Baby’s got a first aid kit in the back.”

Ten minutes of walking later and you can make out Baby’s silhouette parked on the road on the other side of some trees. The rain seems to have gotten even worse – if that’s even possible – and the thought of being underneath some type of roof (Baby’s was just as good as any) where you’d have an opportunity to get dry was getting your tired legs through the last bit of your trek out of the muddy woods.

Your first step onto the dirt road comes with more rain as you come out from under the umbrella of trees. Dean opens the back door for you, ushering you inside and telling you not to worry about your shoes (something that he was usually a stickler about; he liked a clean car). To your surprise, he gets in behind you, quickly closing the door before the backseat can get even more wet. He leans over the front bench, fishing his keys out of his pocket, before starting the ignition and turning on the heat. The radio comes on as Baby starts up, and he lets it play as he opens the glove box and pulls out a flashlight, before sitting back and reaching underneath the driver’s seat for the first aid kit.

“Hold this,” he orders, turning on the light and handing it to you, the brightness of the bulb causing you both to squint as your eyes adjust.

“Dean, I told you, I’m fine,” you reiterate with an exhausted sigh, watching as he opens the white box in his lap.

“Shine it on your face, I need to get a better look.”

You roll your eyes, pointing the flashlight on your cheek, allowing Dean to grab the underside of your chin as he moves your head to the side and examines the damage.

“Needs to be cleaned,” he announces, letting you go and pulling out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and gauze from the kit. You watch as he unscrews the cap and flips the bottle over, letting the cloth absorb some of the liquid before flipping it back and closing it. “This is gonna sting.”

He says that every time, and you chuckle softly in response. “Yeah, not my first time.”

He doesn’t even crack a smile. He grabs underneath your chin again, dabbing your wound with the cloth, and you’re too focused on his mood to even notice the sting. A minute passes by, and you’re sure it’s clean by now, but he seems to be on autopilot, jaw clenched and eyes both focused in on what he’s doing and glazed over at the same time.

“Dean,” you say gently, placing your free hand on top of his, stilling his movements and pulling him out of his trance. “I think it’s clean.”

Silence, except for the rain and the radio, which is quietly playing Is This Love by Whitesnake (not usually what this station plays, but it’s 2 a.m. and you figure they probably save the sappy 80s songs for this time of night).

And then, “You can’t do that.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head. “Do what?”

“Scare me like that. I didn’t – I thought –” he shakes his head, dropping his hand and placing the gauze back in the kit, along with the rubbing alcohol, before closing it and shoving it back under the seat. “Just – you can’t do that.”

“Dean, the storm came out of nowhere. We’ve split up on hunts so many –”

“And it’s never my idea!” he interrupts.

“What do you want me to say, Dean!? ‘I’m sorry that God decided to flood the earth again while we were out hunting werewolves’!? I am fine , okay? I can handle –”

He cups your face in his cold hands, careful to avoid the fresh cut on your cheek. “I don’t doubt that you can handle yourself. But I can’t lose you, do you get that?” His face is inches away from yours, and the flashlight slips out of your hands and onto the floor as your breath catches in your throat. The radio starts playing the all-too familiar beginning chords of Night Moves , and you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod. Dean tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “I can’t lose you,” he whispers.

“I know,” you reply breathily. You place your hand over his again. “You won’t, De.”

The corner of his mouth lifts up into a brief half smile – one that you would have missed had you not been watching his every move. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip with a feather-light touch, and all you can hear is the radio and the rain.

“Your lips are freezing,” he comments, not-so-subtly (in true Dean fashion).

“Shame there’s no way to warm them,” you whisper back, biting back a smile.

“Hm,” he smirks, leaning in. “I can think of a way.”

You close your eyes as his lips meet yours, instantly sending warmth back into your body. Night Moves is still playing, and you ignore the irony as you kiss him back like not freezing to death depends on it. It’s not your first kiss with Dean, but it’s the first one that feels like it really means something, like you could be more than just friends who hook up occasionally. His hands move from your face to your jacket, unzipping it before he helps peel it off your body, your wet skin making everything a thousand times harder. He carelessly throws it into the front seat before his lips move to your neck and he works on getting his own top layer off. He finds your sweet spot right under your ear, one that sends warm shivers down your spine, and then his hands are back on your body, finding their way underneath your soaked shirt, trailing up your sides. His palms feel warm against your skin, and you don’t know if it’s the heat blasting through the vents or the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but you’ve never been hotter.

The two of you separate for a few seconds and tug off the remainder of your clothes, everything landing in a nice pile on the front seat — muddy boots included. The cleanliness of his car is the last thing Dean is concerned about right now.

You feel a lot more comfortable naked — meaning, you’re only wet where you want to be now — and you lean back in the seat, your head resting against the door, as Dean hovers over you, taking you in. The flashlight on the ground was your only source of light with the moonlight blocked out by the storm still raging outside.

“You’re beautiful,” he states, not like an opinion, but like it’s an undeniable fact. Like if you were to look up ‘beautiful’ in the dictionary right now you’d find a picture of your face.

You smile. “Thank you.”

His finger traces your jaw bone, his thumb gently outlines the scrape on your cheek. “I don’t think it’s gonna scar,” he says. You love it when he’s like this: pure and unfiltered, saying exactly what he’s thinking when he’s thinking it.

You chuckle softly. “Good. Be real ugly if it did.”

His expression turns serious. “No it wouldn’t.” He states that like it’s a fact too, and you have no choice but to accept it.

“Okay. It would be pretty badass, I guess,” you concede.

He smiles and nods, leaning down to kiss you softly, quickly, before pulling back and whispering, “Yeah, it would.”

He trails his kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbone, and you catch the next song on the radio — Feels Like the First Time — and roll your eyes and try not to laugh because of course . You’re brought back to the present when Dean’s mouth wraps around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud as your hands instantly come to grip his wet hair.

“Fuck,” you breathe, back arching off the leather seat, and he chuckles softly before releasing you with a ‘pop’.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes again, but they quickly close as he moves to give your right nipple some attention, gently pinching the other between his thumb and pointer finger. Your moans cause his cock to twitch, and you feel it against your inner thigh, imagining what it must look like right now.

“Please,” you beg, and you both know exactly what for. He gladly returns his lips to yours, before nestling himself comfortably (or as comfortable as one can get in the backseat of a ‘67 Chevy) between your legs, still damp and sticky from the rain. He kisses you hard as he enters you slowly, and you moan into his mouth as you adjust to his size. Nothing’s ever felt so good.

“Jesus,” he breathes, pulling away momentarily and bracing himself with one hand on the fogged up window as he bottoms out and stays there, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him, and right now, you are. “Mm, fuck .” He starts to move, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck, his hot breath and soft groans doing nothing to help stall the tightening coil in your abdomen. “‘m never letting you out of my sight again,” he whispers.

All you can do is nod; he feels so good, you never want him to stop.

“Can’t fuckin’ lose you,” he mumbles, his face coming to hover above yours as he cups your unscathed cheek with his free hand. “You hearin’ me?” He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

You nod again, a little more aggressively this time. “I know, Dean. You won’t,” you reassure him through unsteady breaths. It’s your turn to shake your head. “You won’t.”

You hadn’t noticed his thrusts speeding up, too lost in your emotions until he hits a spot that you didn’t even know you had.

“Oh, fuck ,” you hiss, arching your back. “Fuck, right there.”

He listens, picking up the pace ever so slightly, his lips on your neck again, his heavy pants in your ear. “Shit, sweetheart, you feel so good.” He’s breathing so hard it’s barely audible, but you hear it clear as day, and it’s what brings you to the edge.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna —”

“Me too, me too.”

And then you’re tensing underneath him as a wave of pleasure washes over you, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up, and he’s holding himself up on trembling forearms, desperately trying not to collapse on top of you as the exhaustion from the day finally hits you both like a tidal wave. Through heavy breathing you notice that it’s still pouring outside — probably deeming you stuck here on this no name road until it lets up — and that You Shook Me All Night Long is playing on the radio, and you can’t help but giggle softly and shake your head.

“What?” he questions, confused.

“I think both the weather and the radio are demanding that we go again.”

TAGLIST(S)

If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddictions // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @boeshaneboy // @besas-stuff // @babypink224221 // @stoneyggirl2 // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @samsgirl93 // @alwayssnivellus // @simpfoegeorge // @ajordan2020

SUPERNATURAL: @deans-baby-momma // @cookiechipdough // @roonyxx // @jassackles // @roseblue373 // @redbarn1995

DEAN WINCHESTER: @perpetualabsurdity // @lyarr24 // @solarrexplosion // @rach5ive // @akshi8278 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @emoryhemsworth // @whore4romance // @themerc-with-a-mouth

You can join my taglist(s) here!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction

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ziminy · 3 months ago

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Big bad wolf

Where the reader is red riding Hood and Geto is the bad wolf waiting behind the corner to bite.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!reader, wolf!geto, dark content, killing, manipulation, major character(s) death, stalking, marking, biting, oral (m receiving), chocking, creampie, fingering, mean Geto, deep throating, rough s(e)x, orgasm denial, overestimulation, aphrodisiac,

Author's note: I can't stop laughing at the thought of him in grandma clothes. He would look good in a dress tho.

Not proofread

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were sent to your grandma's house to check on how she's doing. Nothing new, you used to do that all the time when you were little. But the thing is that you moved out some time ago, and you haven't visited her in years. It was no wander that you forgot the way to her house.

Someone else was supposed to accompany you. However, you were stood up in the last moment, everybody being busy with something important so you had no other choice but to go there on your own, all alone.

Follow the main path they said, the fact that it splits no one said.

You have to pick which way you're going, left or right. There's no sign that says where the paths takes, so you can only guess.

The right path looks more lively, but the left path might be the actual one. Ugh, this was so hard.

"Never seen you around these parts." a masculine voice could be heard from behind a tree.

"I'm just passing by." you said, not wanting to get in any troubles.

"You look like you need help. Where are you going?" he slowly walked out from where he was hiding, revealing himself. Eye dark just like his hair, fluffy pointy ears on top of his hair and something that seemed like a tail could be seen from behind

"Are you a local?" you asked, somehow skeptical of his motives.

"You can say so."

"Then, do you know the path to this village?" you asked, giving him the name of the place you're going to.

"What are you doing there?" isn't he asking too many questions?

"Visiting my grandma, she's sick." you don't know why you're even telling him.

"Does she lives outside the village?" how did he know? "I know her. It will be faster if you take the right path." oh, you didn't thought he'll be this useful.

"Thank you." you said, happily walking to your destination and admiring the surroundings. Pretty flowers left and right, you couldn't help but stop in place to pick a few, your grandma might like it.

You really weren't thinking nothing of it, being in your own world as you explored this forgotten part of the village, slowly remembering stuff from when you were little.

You remember the lady with the green house, now looking old, her home bearly standing up. Or that one house that was covered in flowers, now looking abandoned.

You couldn't help but sigh, everything changed to the worst. Just like you, the youngsters were leaving this place, trying to look for a better place. But now this place looked abandoned.

You tried to brush it off, it wasn't your problem, you couldn't help these people. Plus, the village your family is in is doing a lot better, so there must have been a reason for this ghosting.

"My my, I haven't seen you before." an old lady said, trying to start a conversation with you. "Are people finally moving back?" she laughed.

"I'm just visiting my grandma." you said, stopping in place to conversate with her.

"It's nice seeing youngsters still caring about the elderly." all you did was to smile and nod your head. "Where does you grandma lives?"

"Right outside the village, that way." you said, pointing at the direction you were going to.

"Be careful, there's a big wolf walking around this area. He been attacking people left and right." you couldn't help but think about the man from earlier. It couldn't be him, wouldn't he attack you if he was?

"I see. I'll be careful." you smiled, now feeling a pair of eyes on you.

"Mm. Be careful." the old lady said before you continued your trip.

You couldn't help but feel paranoid now. Perhaps you were feeling followed from the start, but only now after that lady said it you realized it. It was just your imagination, it had to be. I mean, a wolf, in the middle of the day? Come on.

Was that why everybody was leaving? Was that why your family kept talking about moving your grandma to their village? What if the wolf decides to attack your village too?

Your heart was beating so fast now, it was about to jump out your chest. You kept looking left and right, the familiar things slowly disappearing the more you get to the border of the village. The colorful houses and it's people started to fade away, now looking like a memory you had long time ago. The more you look back, the more they disappeared from your sight.

What if this was a dream? Or was your imagination playing with you? Fuck, please let me get home safely, you prayed in your head.

A few meters away from the village, there was a single lonely house standing proud, looking welcoming, like it was waiting for your arrival.

Your worries slowly evaporated as you quickened your pace towards the house, feeling euphoric and safe after that jump scare from earlier.

You stopped in front of the house, the front gate already being opened, like it was especially left open knowing that you'll be there. You walk towards the small building, knocking on the wooden door, letting the person inside it that you finally you finally got to your destination.

"Grandma, is me, Y/N." you said, a hand on the door handle and softly pushing it open. "Grandma?" you said when you noticed it was way too quiet.

The first thing you saw was how everything looked old and yet it was clean. Very few things here and there, everything looked minimalist.

There was a table right next to the entrance, and then a coat hanger right on the back of the door. A big rug in the middle of the room and then a bed right in the corner. Looks like your grandma is still in bed, that made you sigh reassured.

"How are you feeling?" you said when you walked to the bed, trying to see if the old woman is awake.

Her back looked a lot different than you remember, but that wasn't really important, was it? She slowly sat up, her hair covering her face.

She raised a hand, and you grabbed it, helping her get out of the bed. And damn, grandma was a lot taller than you remember, like, tall. She was a few heads taller than you, she had long black hair and broad shoulders. Was she working out?

"You look a lot bigger than I remember." you said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"That's because you'll always be my baby." you blinked a few times, trying to process what she just said.

"Your voice sounds different." she sounded like a man.

"I always had this voice."

"Your clothes doesn't fit you." you pointed out.

"I grew."

"Your hair too."

"I like it longer." your eyes went up, to what's on top of her head.

"And your ears.." she looked down at you, finally being able to see her face. Oh god, how could you have been so stupid. It wasn't grandma, it was the guy from earlier.

You let go of his hand, taking a step backwards but he grabbed you, dragging you towards him before you were pinned against the closest wall.

"Why would you- Why are you- What happened-" you couldn't even think of what words to say.

"Come on now, take it easy." he had a smirk on his face, and you couldn't help but look around for any kind of clue on what happened.

"What happened to grandma?" you looked at him, finally thinking of what you wanted to say. All he did was to shrug, a smug expression on his face like he was mocking you. "What do you want from me?" he did nothing but to smile. His face getting closer to you, to your neck, sniffing you for a moment before he looked up at you.

Ah, so you were nothing but food to him. No wander everybody was leaving this place when he can easily pull a stunt like that.

Somehow, you were at peace with yourself, closing your eyes, expecting nothing more than a quick death before he devours you. Instead, you were welcomed with his laugh, amused with the fact that you were so calm.

"What?" you said annoyed.

"I like to play with my food before eating it." huh? You stared at him in disbelief. He got his face to your shoulder, opening his mouth widely before biting you, his fangs sinking into your skin, making your mind go dizzy for a moment. "On your knees." he ordered, his expression changing instantly, now serious.

With big eyes, you looked at him, begging him without words to change his mind. Spare you, give you five seconds to get the fuck out of there and run for your life. But no, he had the same stoic expression on his face, looking at you without a single hint of light in his eyes. He was so crule, how could he do this do you?

"Don't make me repeat it." you gulped, biting your lip in frustration.

"Here?" you said hesitantly, almost eating your own words.

He walked away from you, getting off the nightgown and sitting at the edge of the bed, moving one of his finger back and forth, noticing you to get closer.

He made you sit in front of him, on your knees. "Don't be shy now. Do what you're supposed to." his voice was as cold as his expression.

You had many bad words to say at his address, but at the same time, you can't help but feel something hot forming between your legs.

He kept looking down at you, and it only made you think about what you did wrong. You shouldn't have listened to him, you shouldn't have came here alone, or even better, your shouldn't have come here from the start.

"Hah." he puffed, amused at the fire you had in your eyes, full of hate and determination. Don't you think you have a bit too much courage in this situation? "Get started or I will." he spit out some words, making your eyebrows arch in frustration.

You grabbed his cock, too big for your liking, but you weren't in a position to complain.

You moved your hand up and down, not even sure of what to do. A part of you, telling you to taste him, but the more sane part was yelling at you, telling you how much of an hypocrite you were. Dumb, stupid, idiot, so many words echoed in your head, finding synonyms after synonyms to insult you.

Yes, you were indeed dumb for feeling hot in this situation, your body tensing up when your skins touched. A jolt went down your spine, feeling tingly and wandering what reward will you get from this.

You looked up at him between your eyelashes, opening your mouth and getting your face closer to him. All he did was to laugh, staring at you wrapping your mouth around his cock, moving your head little by little to get him inside.

Up and down, up and down, you keep bopping you head, trying to figure out where was your limit. But he didn't cared about that, he took a fistful of your hair and pushes you down, getting more of his dick inside your mouth and make you gag audibly.

"You can take more of it, but you're not even trying it." fuck him. What does he even know? You glare at him, and in response he laughed. He laughed because of how stupid you look, and it made him want to bully you more. "Touch yourself. Get your pussy ready for me." your expression didn't softened, you had the same ugly look in your eyes as you got a hand between your thighs, in your pants. You were so wet, and you had no idea what made you feel like that, because it was too much. You practically had a pool in your panties, swimming in your own juices since you pussy was drooling over some dick.

This was so unlike you, and you couldn't figure out why. With his dick shoving down your throat and the way your body was heating up, you couldn't think straight.

"Keep going." his words of encouragement didn't helped in any way, it only made you feel desperate for his touch.

With your mouth full of him, you started to think that you really could do more than that. To push him deeper than anything have been before, to take more of his dick and try to reach new limits, because fuck it, why not. A life and a hole you have.

So, being blinded by false hope, and this feeling of determination that appeared out of nowhere, you moved your head, confidence in yourself that you'll be able to do it. You'll be able to suck him off better than anyone ever did.

How idiotic of you, thinking that you would actually be able to pull such a trick by yourself. But he appreciated your effort, now he was helping you get him inside further and further than before, his cock going down your throat, you could feel it so deep that you couldn't help but tense a little, a few tears appearing in your eyes. "Keep touching yourself. You'll regret it later if you don't." he kept reminding you, his voice sounding out of breath and just as cold as ever.

He's so heartless, he's expecting you to do all the work. Suck him dry and touch yourself, to get yourself ready for him when he's not paying you any attention. You need more words of encouragement, touches, kisses even. What a dickhead he was, having such a pretty thing as yourself all to himself and not even trying to do you right.

He was very vocal though, he wasn't hiding his voice even for a moment. He kept moaning and moaning, his hand on your hair, pushing you down. His head fell back, the loudest moan he left out so far erupting from his mouth. He was such a bitch and it was making a mess out of you, something inside of you slowly waking up, wanting to bite him just to see how he'll react.

"Fuck." he was out of breath, grabbing your hair better as he moved his hips forward. His action caught you by surprise, making you grab his thigh to hold yourself in place as he kept fucking himself into you.

The next thing you know, is him getting out your mouth, hands wrapped around your arms to help you get up, and then ripping your clothes off. He pushed you into the bed, face down and ass up before slapping it, leaving a big red mark on you skin.

No warnings were said before he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock right against your warm pussy. Well, this was it. The anticipation was eating you, not knowing what he'll do, or when. Biting your lip, you stayed quiet as you waited for his next move.

He pushed himself in, making you gasp at the way he was stretching you. You were so tight, he couldn't help but grab your ass so he could move better. It hurts, if you're being honest, and you can't help but grip the sheets.

He was mean, bullying himself inside, he kept pushing and pushing until he got all the way in. Taking a moment to himself to take a deep breath before starting moving his hips. Long deep strocks, his dick touching against spots that made you see stars.

He was no saint, fuck it, he wasn't a good man to begin with and the fact that he showed you absolutely no affection was pointing that out. "Told you to touch yourself, now you'll have to deal with it." how mean he was, he showed you no mercy.

His words was making it seems like you were the one wanting this, like you made him follow you all the way here and then begged him to do such despicable acts. But perhaps he just wanted to be delusional, lost in his own world as he kept fucking into you.

You kept your mouth shut, and the fact that you didn't let a single word out made him angry. Biting his lip, frustrated with your actions and looking visible mad. Pride was a sin after all, and he liked to live as a selfish man.

Refusing to back down, he slapped your ass, making you gasp audibly and turn your head to look at him.

He lower himself, getting closer to your body. His arms resting on each side of you, his chest pressed into your back before he bite your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your skin.

That overbearing sensation from earlier came back, it felt like your blood was moving backwards, boiling and moving at a much faster speed making you feel hotter than you already were.

If you weren't wet enough, now your juices were running down your thighs and onto the bed, leaving wet mark on you, him and the sheets. But he enjoyed this, looking at you trembling and making this adorable expression, finally looking desperate for him.

He didn't had enough yet, not when he could get you in a more degradable state. Moving his lips into your neck and sinking his teeth again.

It was like he was injecting something into you. An unknown substance that made you lose your mind, your mouth watering and feeling like you didn't know your own body.

Was this enough for him? Or how much longer was he going to be petty? Because you don't have enough time to play his games, the longer he's inside you without moving the more you want to flip him around and show him that you too can play this game.

He moved on the other side of your neck, biting it and making you feel more desperate with each second pass by. If his aphrodisiac wasn't going to kill you, then he will. He will sink his teeth and mark you as many times as it needed to prove his point, and that was that it was stupid to resist him. If you can't be honest or humor him, then he will.

And he bite you again, leaving his teeth mark on your skin as he suck and licked on it after that, moving on another spot and give you another doze of his toxin, because why not. He wanted to do it so he'll do it.

He realized what he's doing only after he felt your warm walls tightening around him, squeezing him again and again before he realized you just came. That made him stop and look at you.

The way you fell on the bed, you couldn't even hold your own weight up, and how you were breathing heavily. He can't say that he hates the way you looked in that moment, but he doesn't love it either. There was this feeling inside of him that told him it wasn't enough, he didn't do anything at all so how dare you be tired already?

So, he grabbed your hips and dragged your ass in the air, your face against the sheets as he started moving his cock in and out once again.

He showed you no mercy, he kept going at it hard from the start. Now, it wasn't anything too wild, it wasn't that hard but it was enough to make the bed move harshly.

He can show you something that is worth cumming for. A few mere bites wasn't enough to do anything, and yet you really dared to go ahead and forget about his hard dick, forget about him and how he was going to make you cum.

The audacity you had, he still can't believe it. You'll see what he's capable of.

Pushing your head down into the bed, face against the sheets as he kept running his cock in and out, the room filled with wet sounds and he's way too proud of that. He's so happy seeing you drunk on his dick that he can't help but slap your ass, leaving his hand print on it so you would remember.

Your insides were squeezing him again, making him to pull out and flip you around.

This was the second time this happens, what's wrong with him. "You want to cum, huh?" he said in a mocking voice, sitting down on the bed. "Gotta earn it." he really wanted you to ride him. And, well, it didn't took you long to jump in his lap and move yourself like there's no tomorrow.

You easily took him in, moving yourself right away to feel some friction. With a hand between your legs you rubbed your clit, not needing much time to cum when you felt like your whole body was going to melt. That didn't stopped you from moving your hips, too desperate to make this agonizing feeling go away.

He placed his hands on your hips, moving you up and down even better, faster than before. He didn't wanted to admit it but you felt good, so good that he couldn't help himself but cum, pumping his load deep inside you before he came back to his senses and started to move you again.

It was just after you came for a second time when he pulled out, right after he came inside you one more time. He flipped you on your back, getting back between your legs and started moving his dick like he didn't do it before.

He kept moving at a certain angle, trying a new way every now and then to see which one made you feel better, because this wasn't just about him, it was also about his pride, you looked just so delicious being fucked up and desperate to feel him.

Your sounds weren't loud enough, your touch was almost non-existent and it made him look visibly mad. Was there a moment that he looked happy ever since he appeared before you?

He wrapped his hands around your neck, squeezing it slightly to hold you in place as he kept ravaging your insides. He kept moving and moving, going harder and harder just to see you squirming. You were reacting so much better now, he couldn't help but have this strange grin on his face, looking at the way you were struggling to take him.

You can come with him, can't you? You can come at the same time, he knows you can. He just haves to give you a little push. So, he chocke you even harder, making your head spin as he looked satisfied with where this was going. You grabbed onto him, feeling dizzy. Your orgasm felt so much violent this time, and the fact that he had no mercy on you didn't make you feel any better.

With a few more thrusts, he came, filling you up even more, and somehow, telepathically, you came at the same time as him.

He got out of you, his cock resting right on top of you as he kept his hands wrapped around your neck, still chocking you, harder and harder, making the air from your lungs stop flowing.

He looked down at you, with the same old psychotic smile as your mind slowly becomes blank, your vision blurry as he disappears from your view.

"Ah, shit." he cursed, realizing too late what he had done. "I did it again, didn't I." he sighed, getting up the bed and looking at you one more time before he put his clothes on, leaving your lifeless body right there where he left you. It wasn't his problem anymore.

Author's note: Tumblr decided to die on me halfway through writing this and I had to re write a little (more). Glad I finished it.

#geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto smut

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mullermilkshake · 2 months ago

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Twelve days of fluffmas

On the fourth day of fluffmas, my true love gave to me...

Yakuza!Kento & Yakuza!Ino being the duo we adore and being the supportive friend everyone needs.

Day five

Yakuza!Kento x Reader (Kinda)

Tags: Yakuza AU, fem!reader, adorable duo, drinking alcohol, slight angst I guess because drunk Kento is unlike himself, Ino is adorable and he cares so much about Kento

The easiest way to get Kento Nanami to open up was to get him drunk.

Now, Ino didn't do this often because he saw it as disrespectful. But it was getting too much to see Nanami pining over a girl he hadn't spoken with and Ino saw this as an opportunity to let him get things off of his chest without him realising.

So he supplied the alcohol and snacks, and ventured over to the Nanami office after hours to surprise him.

Ino knew about you, like a woman scorned over a mistress her husband was hiding. Only Ino wasn't Nanami's wife, but rather what he saw as his best friend.

He knew his boss was hiding you away because he was too damn scared of just casually 'bumping' into you and seeing if you fancied him just as much as he apparently did.

The thing about the camera network in Nanami's office was that Ino wired the thing himself. So he could see which cameras had been looked at without doing much. What he didn't tell Nanami was that he could access the whole thing via his portable computer.

From what Ino saw, you were a woman working as a hostess, like many other girls in the Shinjuku district of entertainment. So there wasn't anything that he saw that made you stand out, not to him at least but you stood out to Nanami, that was the main thing.

And he noticed that if you were in Nanami's life, he might not take everything so seriously all the time.

So as Ino poured the fifth drink, his liver was already begging him to stop. Though in order to get Nanami to a point that he'd let lose and possibly not remember at all the next day, he had to keep going.

And once Nanami took a swig of the next drink, he didn't stop and instead necked the whole thing down straight.

"This is nice stuff, Ino. Where'd you get this?"

"Oh, you know, just somewhere," it cost him a weeks money just to get that thing.

Nanami's next response would gauge how drunk he was.

He looked down at the whiskey, nodded a little and lazily rubbed his eye. "Somewhere sounds good."

Okay, he might have been drunk enough. Ino had to try before he too was far too drunk to even ask. His poor liver.

"So, who's that girl you look at sometimes on the network."

Ino could have heard a pin drop after that question and for a moment he was sure that Nanami was about to either kick his ass or kick him out. Either one was bad.

"So you found out then?" he looked so deflated. "She's just a girl I bumped into once, but she's perfect."

"Why haven't you just approached her?" Ino asked him out of curiosity, but he was also looking for advice if he ever met someone he was interested in.

"I can't just do that Ino, you'll come to understand when you're face to face with a pretty girl and you don't know which way to look and your heartbeat is sat in your mouth because you're afraid you'll say the wrong thing."

Nanami poured another whiskey and chucked it back before the lid was screwed back on. "What if she doesn't find me interesting, or give me the time of day? There's ten years between us, did you know that? She'll think I'm this old man who preys on young women because I'm a Yakuza and no mature woman would ever get involved because they're smart."

Kento Nanami was only thirty four years of age.

He continued before Ino could get a word in. "She's smart enough to stay away from me and the clan... So I haven't said anything yet. I'd rather just watch from afar and make sure she's safe."

Ino didn't realise you had this sort of effect on him. How long had this really been going on for Nanami to just give up?

"She sounds pretty great."

You were if it made Nanami like this. Ino had never seen him quite like this to the point it was just so out of character for him even with alcohol in the mix.

"She is," he slumped on the desk with the bottle in his hand. "And I'm just... I'm not good for her."

"Well, how do you know?"

Nanami looked up at Ino with half lidded alcohol ridden eyes, rubbing his left one lazily though he was fully coherent at the point. The possibility of this conversation may have sobered him up.

That wasn't good for Ino keeping a low profile.

Oh well, he was past the point of no return now. "You once told me to never quit if I failed, to keep trying. Look where I am now. So I'll tell you the same thing."

He poured another drink for the two of them and took it back for courage. "It's Christmas after all and good things happen all the time, even for us Yakuza guys. So go out and find her, speak to her before it's too late and some other guy sweeps her off her feet."

Now he was sounding like his own father. It wasn't the most sound advice Ino could give him, but it was hopefully enough of a kick to get him moving. Firm enough just like the advice Nanami would give him wherever things got tough.

"If you can't go an approach a girl you like, then how am I supposed to do it?"

"You're right," he said, propping himself up on his elbow and watching Ino with such softness. Though it was because he was drunk. "I'm not setting the best example, am I?"

Ino smiled and leant back in his chair, smiling away and admiring the string of Christmas lights he put up the week prior. "Nah, you're good sir. But make a Christmas wish and see what happens, you know what'll happen if you don't speak to her. So let it go somewhere."

Nanami turned and observed the screens, taking the black and white images in as he sipped on his drink this time. "Alright then, perhaps you're right."

Then he turned back, his eyes more focused and trained on Ino. "I'll do things head on and decide how to approach this. I never thought I'd get a prep talk for you, Ino."

He stood up and wandered over to the screens, just his shadow was visible now in the darkened corner of the room. The golden hue of whiskey swirled around in his glass, aerating in his hand while he watched.

"Also, you could just ask about my personal affairs. There's no need to buy top shelf whiskey to get me drunk, though I appreciate the sentiment."

Shit. He figured it out and sobered up. "What, me? Get you drunk? Not at all sir, I wouldn't ever do anything like that. I just fancied a chat and got sentimental because it's Christmas."

Nanami chuckled and drank, turning to face him one more time.

"You're a terrible liar."

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grimoireofhayley · 2 years ago

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Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Possessiveness (let me know down below if there's more to be added, please and thank you)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain

A/n: Oh my gosh, I didn't think the first part would get so many hits already! Thank you so much for reading this current series! I've decided that this story is going to be my main focus and I'm putting the others on hold for now. Let me know in the comments below if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, keep in mind this story takes place in SCREAM 1996 (The Original) so some or a lot of the plot will be in it. Thank you :)

All chapter links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 2

Monday, the first day of the week, the day that everyone dreaded. It meant the end of a great Weekend and the start of a long and exhausting forthcoming week ahead.

You pulled into the driveway of Woodsboro High school, your ‘67 Chevy glistened in the sun’s light. You rolled the windows up, opened the door and stepped out, grabbing your bag in the process.

Double clicking your keys’ button, your car beeped, indicating it was now locked.

The parking lot was littered with News Vans, Journalists and their Cameramen, along with police cars and Officers. You narrowed your eyes, confused, seeing all the commotion.

“What the fu--” You uttered, cutting yourself off, seeing the auditorium sealed off.

“(Y/n)! Over here!” You hear Tatum shout and you jerk your head in the direction.

“Hey, Tate..” You trailed, seeing Sidney next to her, “Hi, Sid..” You nodded, greeting them. “Do you two have any idea what is going on?” You asked, gesturing to everything around you.

Just as Tatum was about to answer, Gale Weathers, and her annoyingly pitched voice began talking.

“The small town of Woodsboro, California, was devastated last night, when two young teenagers were found brutally murdered.” Gale took a breath before continuing her speech in front of her cameraman. “Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made, and the murderer could strike again..”

Your head was filled with questions, who were the students that were killed? What if you were the next victim? Why hasn’t the killer been found yet?

You gulped and your face tinted pink from nerves.

“Do you believe this shit?” Tatum suddenly spoke, jolting both you and Sidney from your thoughts.

“Tatum what is going on?” You and Sidney both asked in unison.

“I was going to answer earlier, but Gale seemed to have your attention more.” Tatum licked her lips, and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. The blonde glanced at you and Sidney, “Wait, so you really don’t know?” She asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, no shit, why else would I be asking?” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm evident in your voice.

“Okay, okay…” Tatum mumbled, “Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night.”

“What?” Sidney began, “No way…” You finished Sidney’s sentence for her.

“And we’re not just talking killed. We’re talking splatter-movie killed.” Tatum made hand motions and began walking, you and Sidney followed her lead.

“Ripped open from end to end.” The blonde looked at you, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English.” Sidney gasped.

“Her boyfriend, Steve Orth, sat next to me in Drama..” You frowned, looking at Sidney.

“Well, not anymore…” Tatum sputtered.

“Ugh, that’s too bad…” You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s so sad…” Tatum looked at the ground, kicking at a stone in her way. “Her mom and dad, they found her hanging from a tree, her insides on the outside…” Tatum placed her hands behind her back, rubbing the soles of her arm. “And Steve, God, he was found bound to a chair and his stomach ripped open..”

“Oh, my God..” You groaned, sadness lingering in your voice. “Do they know who did it?” You asked, side-eyeing Tatum.

“They have no idea. They’re fuckin’ clueless.”

You, Tatum and Sidney walked up the school’s steps.

“They’re interrogating the entire school…” Tatum exhaled before listing off people, “Teachers, students, janitors--”

You butted in, “They think it’s school related?” You raised a brow, gripping the side of your arm, nails digging into your flesh. The anxiety of it all, started building up in the pit of your stomach. You felt nauseous.

Tatum stopped in front of you and Sidney, “They don’t know…” Tatum glanced into your hues before looking at Sidney, “I mean, Dewey was saying this is the worst crime they’ve seen in years. Even worse then--”

“Tate…” You warned, gesturing for her to choose her words carefully when speaking to Sidney. Yes, you may not like Sidney as much, but she doesn’t deserve to be reminded of her mother’s rape and murder.

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, making the conversation dwindle.

Tatum sighed, jabbing her two index fingers together, out of nervousness. “Well.. It’s bad.”

You tapped your pencil against your desk, staring beside you.

Little do your friends know, Steve was also your ex-boyfriend. After you guys had a falling out, he had left you for Casey. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of anyone knowing you were the dumpee and not the dumper, plus, he was secretly seeing you while he was in another relationship before Becker. You didn’t want anyone to judge you for it. You felt guilty as is, but the way he was able to charm you with his words and physical touch, you couldn’t help yourself, but keep going for more. However, as far as anyone else knows, you guys were just close friends.

You moaned, letting your head droop, “Jesus…” You whispered, drumming your fingers, trying to settle the sick feeling in your gut.

“(Y/n) (L/n), it would appear to be your turn.” The teacher said, looking at you, and the rest of the class turned their heads to meet your gaze.

You nodded, looking one last time at the empty desk next to you, where Steve used to sit.

You grabbed your books, pencil case and water bottle, shoving them quickly into your bag.

“Who’s up next?” The principal asked.

“Um, (Y/n) (l/n)..” Dewey looked over his papers.

“Wait, wasn’t she the one who found Maureen Prescott last year--” The principal began, but stopped, seeing you in the doorway.

“Ah, (Y/n). How have you been?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You smiled half-heartedly, sitting down on the blue-cushioned chair.

“Hi, (Y/n)..”

“Hello, Sheriff Burke, Dewey…” You inhaled, feeling the nerves begin to rile back up. You tapped your foot off the ground, shaking your leg, feeling your hands sweat.

“Uh, that’s Deputy Riley today, (Nickname).” Dewey winked.

“How is Everything?” Sheriff Burke looked you over, seeing how anxious you were.

“Um, could be better…” You mumbled, looking down.

“Huh, why’s that?” Burke leaned forward. You sank in your chair, feeling rather intimidated.

“Look, we’re gonna keep this very brief, (Y/n), alright?” The principal placed a broad hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The police just want to ask you a few questions, okay?”

You nodded.

“(Y/n), were you very close to Steve Orth?”

‘Shit..’ You thought.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I was…” You wiped your hands off your jeans, trying to dry them off.

“How close?” Burke, scribbled down on his board, awaiting your answer.

You gulped, looking at Dewey, silently praying he’d step in, seeing how apprehensive you were, but he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he was doing his job.

“We dated…” You started, “Last year for a couple months…”

“How come the relationship ended?”

“Uh, we--, um, we had a falling out.”

“What type?”

“Jesus--” You groaned, rubbing your thighs with your hands, “He was seeing me behind his then girlfriend's back, we slept together a few times, okay?” You came clean, “He wanted it to end, but I didn’t, but he ended up leaving anyway, leaving for Casey. That’s it, I swear.” You teared up, “I feel so bad about the whole situation as it is, poor Brooke, she didn’t know anything, but he left both of us for Casey..” You placed your hands over your face as quiet sobs escaped your lips. “Am I in trouble?” You peaked through the creases of your fingers, a blush forming across your face.

“For having an affair with him? No, of course not, but that does move you on top of my suspect list.”

You whined, misery coating your mind, “Why? I didn’t kill him..” You uttered, wiping your nose with your light-blue sleeve. “I was hurt, but that doesn’t mean I’d kill him for being scorned…” You trailed, meeting Sheriff Burke's eyes. “I couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a human being…”

“Uh, Sheriff?” Dewey stepped in, “I mean, she’s right, there’s no way she could do something like that.” Dewey glanced at you.

The Sheriff sighed, “We just have to ask you a few extra questions, that’s it.. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that, I should’ve worded it differently. It’s only because you were close with him, you were his mistress at one point, so it’s somewhat suspicious.” He rubbed his chin, “Mistress was upset by Steve breaking relations off, so Mistress sets a plan for revenge. You catch my drift?” He looked at you, and you slouched.

“Yeah..” Was all you could muster out, you sniffled, hugging yourself, waiting for more questions to be asked. “Alright, let’s get this over with…”

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