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authorhjk1 · 8 months ago

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Hey could you do BP members react first time cum inside

Jisoo

"Jisoo..."

You try to warn her. But the woman underneath you just moans louder. Her ankles are crossed on your back, her hands locked together behind your neck. The two of you are almost one body.

You can't hold it in any longer. Jisoo's body, especially her tight pussy, leaves you breathless. You're too weak to fight against her own fading strength.

"Jisoo..."

You say her name once more. But this time it's a sigh of defeat. You empty your load deep inside of her, making Jisoo moan in response.

"Oh god..."

She sighs, her whole body tensing as she feels your warmth. Usually, you cum somewhere on her body, maybe even in her mouth, but never inside. Why has she waited so long for this? It feels amazing.

Jennie

"You gonna give it to me? You gonna fill up my little pussy?"

Jennie looks over her shoulder at you, her tight body pressed against the cold wall.

"Yeah."

You groan into her ear, unable to say much else. You met her barely 20 minutes ago and Jennie is already telling you to dump your cum in her.

"Put your load in me. Right where it belongs. In my needy little cunt."

You groan her name, pin her further against the wall, and finally you orgasm inside of her. Jennie's breath hitches as she feels your cum inside her pussy.

"Damn, I feel so full. I'm gonna have your cum leak out of me for the rest of the day."

Rosé

"C-Can you please cum inside this time?"

You look down at your girlfriend. On her stomach, black dress hiked up enough so you can fuck her tight pussy, her hands bound together by your tie.

"Sure."

You leat out a relieved sigh. It's always such a struggle to pull out early. And a condom just doesn't compare. It just feels like heaven, whenever you fuck your girlfriend raw.

"Jennie said, she got creampied by some stranger the other night. And I want to feel that too."

Her already weak voice tells you that Rosé is reaching her own limit as well. The thought of Jennie, letting a random dude cum inside, makes you fuck your girlfriend a little harder.

"Oh, yes there. Jennie is such a slut. I'm surprised she hasn't tried to make you cheat on me yet."

You quiet your girlfriend by giving her harder thrusts, trying not to think about Jennie while you fuck her.

But it's already too late. Rosé's snug and wet pussy and your mental image of Jennie make you you cum inside your girlfriend earlier than you expected.

"Oh, god. It feels amazing."

Rosé can barely get those words out, before she orgasms herself. You feel her draining your for everything you have. Her already sloppy pussy now needy for more of this newfound feeling.

Lisa

You still can't believe that Blackpink's Lisa is riding you. Inside her own hotel room. Her hands rest on your shoulder, yours on her waist. She didn't even bother getting rid off her dress. She just told you to follow her upstairs, when she caught you staring at her in the lobby.

You could've sworn there were rumours about a boyfriend or something. Either they're not true, or she is doing something really bad right now.

The idea of being able to have sex with Lisa already drives you mad. A dream come true. But is she actually doing this while being in a relationship?

"Damn, your cock feels amazing."

Lisa leans down to give you a deep kiss. A kiss that pushes your further to the point of no return.

She must have felt what you're thinking, because she pulled away and is now looking down on you as she keeps riding you.

"Don't worry, he doesn't mind. Actually, he finds it hotter when I let guys like you cum inside."

"What?"

You're barely able to comprehend what she just said, the fog in your brain already limiting your ability to think.

"It's okay, baby."

Lisa picks up the pace a little, which is deadly for your self control. She leans down, so her mouth is right next to your ear.

"Just think of me as a one time cumdump."

"Fuck."

You groan as you close your eyes, which makes you miss Lisa's knowing smirk. You dig your fingers into her hips as you thrust upwards, cuming deep inside of her.

"Fuck, yes."

Lisa moans, a satisfied smile on her lips. She grinds her hips back and forth. Trying to get as much out of you as possible.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #blackpink smut #blackpink jennie #blackpink jisoo #blackpink lisa #blackpink rosé #blackpink

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snoopychris · 5 months ago

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mermaid!reader and coastal grandson!chris' first meeting...

for as long as he could remember, chris and his brothers visited his grandparents at the beach every year. they always stayed for at least 3 weeks, and they never stayed for more than a month and a half. he wishes he could stay all year. he was always more attached to his grandmother than he was to his parents. it was an unusual connection simply due to the old lady being the exact opposite of chris. chris was quiet but confident. his grandmother, lisa, was loud but scared.

he was always more attached to the beach house than his brothers were. he looked forward to the trip every year. even after his accident he could never wait to go to the beach. the florida keys were home to him. more home to him than boston could ever be. matt and nick ridiculed him for it sometimes, but he truly didn’t care. he waited patiently. every single day.

from a very young age, chris knew. he knew from the first time he visited the age and could comprehend what was going on around him that he’d be a marine biologist. when they were 14, matt nick and chris found a nest of sea turtles. chris refused to leave until they were all safe. his brothers didn’t speak to him for a week because of how long it took.

this trip to the florida keys was different. it was the first trip to the place without their grandfather. and this time chris would get to stay. his transfer to the college of the florida keys had finally gone through and he actually got to stay with his grandmother until he finished school. the only downside was that his brothers had to stay with him during his first semester while he settled in.

his first week back was just… fine. in reality it was no different than what he usually experienced in the keys, but this time had such a unique feeling to it. he didn’t even know how to begin to describe it. he had been home a lot more than he usually was. by this time in a normal trip he’d have been to the beach at least 5 or 6 times. part of chris thinks it’s just cause he has so much more time here this time around.

sitting in the room he was working on making his, completely, truly, utterly his, chris was pulled out of his thoughts when matt gently knocked on his door with two knuckles. “grandma gave me the keys to the bronco. nick and i are goin to the beach. y’comin?” matt asks, eyeing his younger brother up and down. matt knew that chris would be ready in less than 3 minutes after asking, but he also knew that after his accident he wouldn’t ever get into the ocean again. for some unknown reason, chris swallows slightly at the question. he had never been nervous about going to the beach. what was going on with him?

“yeah just lemme change… i’ll meet you outside.” chris replies, bolting towards his closet. he grabs a pair of lululemon swim trunks his mom had gotten him and slips them on, throwing on a random tank top to match. he grabs his pre-prepped beach bag and makes his way outside, both of his brothers already waiting for him by their grandfathers beloved car. chris tosses his bag into the trunk and slides into the passenger seat, gripping onto the window sill. “which beach?” chris questions. the answer didn’t really matter to him. he wasn’t going swimming anyway.

“i… actually don’t know. i was just gonna drive.” matt replies, moving the car out of the long driveway and onto the road. chris shrugs in response and begins picking at his nails, his hair flying all over due to the wind. “y’goin swimming today?” matt mumbles even though he already knows the answer. he and nick both frown when chris shakes his head. they had worried about him for years. every time they thought it was getting better it somehow got worse. at least that’s what they gathered from the vague notes from chris’ psychiatry sessions.

the drive to the beach was longer than chris expected. the drove something around 30 minutes, only crazy because they were surrounded by sand and water. chris could settle in with a good book anywhere on the soft beige substance. whatever, he thought. upon parking, matt and nick sprinted towards the sparkling blue water. chris settled down next to the bags his brothers had tossed under a random beach umbrella. he lays back, tucking his arms under his head. he takes nicks towel and throws it over his face in order to block out the sun just a little bit more.

he’s never felt more at peace, even with the weird feeling in his gut. it only lasts a few minutes before he hears screaming coming from his left. the towel flies off of his eyes and he looks for the source of the disturbance, and instead of seeing his brothers doing something stupid the way he expected, he sees one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever laid eyes on. butterflies. this entire time he’s been feeling butterflies. his feet carry him over before he can even process what’s happening.

chris grunts when your hand meets his chest, accidentally pushing him down to the sand. “no, stop it’s a sea turtle nest. they’re hatching. don’t touch them.” you speak sternly, meeting eyes with him shortly after. chris quickly stands up and nods, looking around for a big leaf or something big enough to help the small creatures. you’re in a state of shock when you process what he’s doing. you hadn’t realized that you weren’t the only person on the beach that knew how to help the turtles. you send him a small smile and grab one of the leaves he found, guarding the animals as much as you could. if matt and nick weren’t swimming they’d give him the silent treatment again, but he lucked out this time.

chris glances up at you, noticing the way some of your hair sticks to your face despite the sea shell clips you have holding it back. “i’m chris.” he whispers, continuing the slow walk to the water. you look up at him and nod, licking your lips before speaking. “pearl.” you reply, smiling when the turtles make their way into the water. there’s a lot of small talk that comes naturally to chris on the journey. in the short time he learns that you’re from miami, that your dad owns a restaurant, and that your grandfather on your moms side was an olympic swimmer.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by chris that you stay far enough from the shoreline that your feet never even touch the wet sand. the moment that chris was cherishing ends quicker than he’d like when nick emerges from the water, standing next to his brother. nick sends you a sweet smile that makes you giggle. there was two of them? when matt exits the water and stands next to you, you panic a little. not because there was now three of them, but he was dripping. you scoot away from him subtly, another action that doesn’t go unnoticed by chris. “chris who’s your friend?” matt asks, his voice laced with flirtatious intent.

you smile over at the boy besides you, inching away from him again. the second a drop of water falls on you, there’s exactly 30 seconds for you to absolutely book it. you swallow anxiously as you eye the boy beside you, looking up to meet chris’ eyes. the same eyes that match the ocean. “i’ll see you soon, yeah?” you whisper, scrunching your face. chris sends you a nod, and as you begin to walk away you feel drops of water on your wrist. shit. 30…29…

“hey, maybe even i’ll see you again soon?” matt asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 26…25… you gulp but nod rapidly, searching around for some form of out. a big rock within running distance and an out to the ocean. 23… 22… you finally spot one and book it, finding relief when it looks like a maze of rocks. 12… 11… to an outsider, youre probably just a good hider or something. at least you hope. before you know it, your body is fully submerged in the water. the pastel yet fluorescent tail replaces your legs, and the matching top replaces the crop top you were previously wearing. you sigh to yourself but stay in place. nobody’s around anyway.

when chris spots your seashell clip on the floor, he just knows he’s going to use it as an excuse to chase after you before matt does. he grips onto it swiftly and runs in the direction you just headed in, being met with nothing but confusion when you’re suddenly gone. you heard him running towards you just a few seconds ago and tucked behind one of the big rocks, hoping you were hidden enough. chris sighs as he throws the barrette on the ground, regretfully picking it up after a few seconds. you take the opportunity to duck under the water and swim away, scrunching your face in worry when your tail splashes louder than intended. chris looks up to find the source of the splash, seeing only the tip of your fins. dolphins? no. not this close to shore. he’s so intrigued that he’s just about to follow behind, daring so much as to swim. nick clearing his throat brings him back to reality, and he turns to his brothers. “what’d you see, kid?” nick asks, intrigued in his youngest brothers sudden interest in swimming. chris shrugs as he steps out of the few inches of water he was in, still gripping onto your hair accessory.

“you guys believe in mermaids?” chris mumbles, knowing the teasing about to ensue. matt laughs and shakes his head, patting his brothers back. “mermaids? you’re full of jokes, bud.”

a/n: i finally finally have my puter back! i hope you guys enjoy this au as much as i do. mermaids have always been something im drawn to. kiss kiss! -gen

dividers by @13hoax!!!

tags(reply or message to be added): @throatgoat4u @sturns-mermaid @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @cockettechris

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡ chris!#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo series #chris sturniolo series #⋆˙⟡cgs!chris #⋆˙⟡snoopychris writes

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comicwritesstuff · 1 year ago

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okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV:

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face.

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up”

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!”

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.”

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n”

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport.

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so.

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating.

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets”

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase.

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable.

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky)

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring.

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her.

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun.

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing*

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible.

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago.

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific”

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person”

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work.

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place.

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?”

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital.

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point.

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him.

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House?

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.”

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile.

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks”

“Oh yeah no problem”

Sarcastic asshole.

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?”

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.”

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down.

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down.

“So are you gonna interview me or something?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.”

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though.

“Fair enough.”

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.”

“Y/n! You traitor!”

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?”

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!”

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people.

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside.

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality.

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable.

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him.

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk.

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time.

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?”

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.”

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance.

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.”

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.”

With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.”

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ).

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine.

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.”

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.”

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?”

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor.

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right.

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him.

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?”

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-”

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?”

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin.

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night.

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane.

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit.

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far.

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House.

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

#gregory house #greg house #hatecrimes md #dr house #house md #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house md headcanons #james wilson #robert chase

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yeeterthek33per · 7 months ago

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Heads Up! (Glódís Viggósdóttir x Reader)

A/N Popped into my head. (Need to get out all the randoms before I can attack the years old requests rip😭)

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, R Being Good with Kids, Tickle fight, Smaller fic today.

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"Alright you lot, your mum has left me in charge, what are we thinking of doing?"

The group of your five nieces and nephews bouncing around excitedly in front of your game deadened form, one arm holding onto your sixth and youngest niece sitting on your hip.

The sun beads down on the campus pitch after a successful afternoon match against Essen, but it's cool enough that it's not unpleasant to be outside still.

"Aunty Y/n!"

Eloise, the second oldest at 10, jumps into you, her little brown curls frilled out around her face, reminding you heavily of your own when you were younger.

"Yes Munchkin?"

She giggles tugging and pointing to the mini scrimmage a few of your younger clubmates have started.

"You wanna play a game?"

"With the girls! Duh!"

"Duh, oh my goodness, I totally forgot you asked earlier."

Slapping your forehead comically, jaw dropping playfully.

"How about that everyone, do we wanna play a round with the girls."

The kids, ranging from 11 to 5 all cheer, nodding and bouncing around, even the tot in your arms gurgling small baby noises in your ear.

"Alright, How about we go ask if they wanna play first huh?"

Nudging the group away to go find the girls, you walk over to your sister sitting pregnant in the stands beside her wife.

Nodding down to the blonde girl now fisting your shirt as she self soothes from the still noisy crowd.

"Care to hold one more, Lisa?"

They chuckle.

"I'll take Jamie, you go look after the flock, Aunty Y/n."

Saluting to the older woman, you jog off after the crowd of kids now tugging at Anna and Tuva's Jerseys.

"Guys, we're supposed to ask nicely, no begging, it's not nice to beg!"

You mildly scold them for hassling the girls so insistently.

Anna and Tuva, of course, protest the children's innocence to you.

"Leave them be, meanie. Of course we'll play, what do we say, kids?"

Cheering from the little ones as they run off to set up a mini pitch, and you stand for a moment to glance around the arena.

Catching eyes with a certain girlfriend of yours, you smile at the loving look in her eyes, giving the older woman a wink as you jog back towards the now started up game.

Across the pitch, the captain stands amongst a group of the other girls, watching the chaos of your little family as they all wrestle for the ball, definitely not following any particular rules or keeping count of goals, as your taller form, and that of Tuva and Anna's mucks around, you occasionally picking up and tossing around a couple of the older ones when they go to get the ball.

Hearing whines of "Stop cheating, Aunty y/n/n" and your response of "I don't what you're talking about, you can pick up other players in the game."

The teasing lilt in your tone makes the kids giggle at your silliness, bringing a warmth up the Icelander's chest.

A nudge to the shoulder.

"Heart eyes much, Gló?"

An amused smirk on the Austrian's face beside her makes her roll her eyes, before turning back to you lifting the oldest and tallest niece over your shoulder with a small war cry, other arm grabbing a hold of the smallest boy, both squealing and giggling at your antics.

"She's so good with them, I have every right to have heart eyes, look at her."

Sarah gives her a knowing smile.

"Marry her before I do, because honestly."

Scoffing, Glódís shoves her.

"I'm working on it."

"Better be, If you don't someone else will cause damn."

Playfully groaning and eyeing you up earns her another shove, leaving her chuckling, Glódís knowing the woman is kidding, but regardless the thought of you marrying anyone else sending a shiver down her spine.

Still, seeing how easily you get along with all of them, pulling the one's who fall back to their feet without much thought, checking on the occasional tears or two from rough falls, brushing them away and getting them back into the game with a sweet caring tone.

Copping a small nudge to the back again, she's pushed in your direction.

"Go get your girl, looks like she might lose in a second."

As promised, your body drops to the ground, the oldest, Jemison and Eloise tackling you, playful cries for help leaving your lips as they attempt to wrestle you away from the ball.

Jogging over, she puts on her best captains voice.

"What is going on here?!"

Her tone makes the entire group jump, the stern look on her face as the girls guiltily look up at someone they've come to know well as your girlfriend.

You look up surprised but turning to see her face, half struggling to keep the stern look on, you realise what she's doing.

"Aunty Y/n was cheating Aunty Gló!"

She pretends to ponder for a moment.

"Well that's not good..."

She pauses for a moment before a smirk tugs at her lips and she stands over you.

"Were you cheating L/n? You know that's illegal."

"But Capi..."

You pout softly.

She makes subtle gestures of come hither towards the girls that stepped away from your still prone form.

"I sentence you to a tickling for the crime of cheating in a scrimmage."

"No wait-"

Your eyes widen at the declaration.

"Get her girls!"

The pair immediately dive back into your form, winding you, attempting to tickle you.

Glódís quickly joins them, though, much to your dismay, points out soft spots between your ribs that makes you start squirming and cackling breathlessly beneath the now growing pile of kids joining in.

Tuva standing amused to the side, smiling at the lot of you.

"No please! I'll never cheat again!"

The Norwegian chimes in.

"Mmmm, I don't know guys, should we believe her?"

Gló's fingers twitching just below your left side ribs.

"I promise! Never again!"

The kids all ponder for a moment, allowing reprieve in the mild torture.

You give them your best pleading eyes, shooting a pout up at your girlfriend who's heads hovering just over yours, to which she fires back a wink.

"Alright alright, I think we've punished her enough. I'm sure she's learned her lesson."

The kids groan, but quickly hop off you, returning to the game with hopes to get a quick advantage on your still downed form.

The older woman helps you up with a small chuckle.

A small disgruntled look on your face as you turn to face the woman fully.

"Did you have to show them that, now they actually know where my weak spot is."

A whining tone that makes your girlfriend laugh.

"Had to give them something to win."

"The betrayal. Absolute betrayal."

Pretending to get the huffs, you fake turn only to be grappled and pulled back into the taller woman's form.

Humming softly, you gesture for a kiss from the woman, pouting up at her.

"I deserve compensation for this traitorous behaviour."

"Of course, baby, I'm so sorry, come here."

Leaning down, her soft lips capture your own in a quick movement that despite fully expecting the movement every time it happens, still leaves you breathless.

She goes to pull away only for you chase her lips for one more peck and she grins, your hands holding her cheeks.

You settle into her arms and she gestures to the group of kids paying neither of you any mind as they wrestle in another goal against Anna, the goalkeeper fake diving to the left with a loud groan of disappointment.

Turning back to the older woman, her eyes are still on you, watching the loving look in your eye at the small little family your sister and her wife have let you be a part of, a small almost familiar expression on her face.

Poking her nose softly, you prod an answer from her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously, what's the look for."

"Okay okay. Just seeing you with them, it's... really sweet, how good you are with them."

The realisation dawns on you, and you grin widely.

"Imagining our own little mini us?"

Flushing a little, she nods sheepishly.

"Maybe. If that's something you want."

"Are you kidding?"

Gripping her face to face you when she near turns back to the group.

"Of course I do, I would love to have a family with you."

Eyes a little watery, you press another kiss to her lips, this time, it's her chasing you, taking much longer to pull away, although this time it's through the loud shouts of your name from the second tiniest niece, Grace.

"Aunty Aunty, come on, yous are taking too long!"

"Alright alright, patience Gracie, we're coming."

"Yeah Aunty, come on."

The teasing Austrian lilt from the now joining Sarah makes you shake your head with a small giggle.

"Stop kissing our captain and get over here."

The glare from Glódís has no bite behind it and you chuckle, pecking away the pout as she turns back to you when you attempt to join the group.

"Come on, you, we've got an army to look after."

Watching your now running form return to the group, grabbing Tuva by the arm, wrestling with her with another war cry, the Norwegian joining you in the yelling, the kids egging you both on, she can't help the smile that joins her shaking head.

She can't wait to marry you.

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#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #glódís viggósdóttir imagine #glódís viggósdóttir x reader #glódís perla viggósdóttir imagines #fc bayern frauen x reader

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retireddaddyric · 5 days ago

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RUINED CANVAS

(PAINTING PALETTE part II)

Synopsis: (part 2 of 4) Fem reader discovers a heartbreaking truth about Daniel and she grows cold. Reader’s brother starts suspecting, the breaking point hits.

Warnings: overhearing, cold behavior, rage, heartbreak, pain, pride.

Notes: this is all fiction. english is not my first language, there will be more parts, share thoughts and comments, even in private if you’re shy!

The second the front door clicks open, my heart drops.

Not metaphorically, like, I feel it. Like gravity just remembered it owed me something and came back to collect.

Daniel’s still tangled to me.

We’re still in my brother’s sheets.

And I can hear the keys hit the ceramic bowl by the door like this is just a regular night.

It isn’t.

“Shit,” I whisper, breath catching in my throat. “Daniel—get off—”

“I know, I know—fuck—” He get out of bed fast, too fast, and I almost whimper from the loss. He looks around wildly, grabs his boxers from the floor. “Where’s my—your sweater—god, where the fuck—”

I don’t answer. I’m already crawling out from under him, legs wobbling. I spot my underwear halfway across the room, curse under my breath, and settle for grabbing Mick’s hoodie from the chair instead. It swallows me whole.

We look at each other, half-dressed, breathless, like idiots caught doing something we never should’ve started.

Then we hear him.

“Dan man? That you?”

Of course it is.

Daniel’s the first out of the bedroom. He walks into the hallway trying to look casual, voice thick but calm. “Yeah, man. Just me.”

“Oh shit,” Mick calls from the kitchen. “Didn’t know you were still here. I thought you went out.”

I stand in the hallway like a ghost. Not sure if I should follow or disappear through the drywall. My thighs are still sticky. My heart’s still racing. I can smell Daniel on my skin.

“Didn’t end up going,” Daniel says. “Got a little sidetracked.”

He looks over at me briefly, just once, and I know exactly what he’s remembering.

I pull the hoodie tighter around my body and walk into the kitchen like I didn’t just have the best sex of my life with my brother’s best friend in my brother’s bed.

“Hey,” I say, voice tight.

Mick looks up from the fridge and frowns slightly. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah. I—uh. Crashed. Got in late.” I clear my throat. “Hope that’s okay.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, sure. We’ve got enough space.”

There’s a beat of silence. Daniel opens the cabinet too hard and pretends to be interested in the tea selection.

“Actually,” Mick says, “I was gonna grab ramen with Lisa tonight, but she bailed, so I’m just gonna crash here. You cool with that?”

Crash here.

He means his apartment.

With both of us.

At the same time.

“Totally,” I lie. “I’ve got some work to finish anyway.”

I feel Daniel’s eyes on me. I don’t look back.

It’s awkward. Of course it is.

We all sit on the couch, way too sober, with a random movie playing in the background that none of us are actually watching. Mick is halfway through some shitty noodle cup and Daniel is trying not to look like he wants to touch me again. I want him to. I want to pretend it’s just us again. But that window closed the moment the door opened.

The next morning, I’m alone in the kitchen when Mick walks in, rubbing sleep from his eyes, yawning like it’s any normal day. He grabs the coffee pot, pours, and leans on the counter next to me. “You and Daniel catch up last night?”

My hand tightens around the mug. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Haven’t seen him this chill in a while,” he says. “Kinda surprised he’s even around. Last time we talked, he said he was flying in to maybe meet up with Emilia.”

The name hits me like a slap. I blink. “Emilia?”

He nods, completely unaware of the way my chest cracks wide open. “His ex. They’ve been talking again, I think. Old flame or whatever.”

I nod slowly. Swallow. “Oh,” I say, like it means nothing.

Like I didn’t let him inside me just hours ago.

Like I didn’t think, even for a second, that this might’ve meant something more.

“Guess he’s still figuring things out,” Mick adds with a shrug. “You know how he is.”

I do. God, I do.

But what I don’t know, what I suddenly can’t breathe around, is why he touched me like that if someone else is still in his head.

If maybe I was just a warm body, a comfort, a one-night detour before the real thing he came for.

I stare into my coffee until it goes cold.

And for the first time in a long time, I wish I’d kept the door closed last night.

And so I out on my steel armor: the key is to act unbothered. Unbothered girls don’t flinch when they hear footsteps behind them.They don’t turn when deep voices say their name like it means something.

They definitely don’t think about the fact that he was supposed to meet someone else.

I sip my coffee and dip the brush in ochre.

“Morning,” I say, without looking up.

I know exactly how I look right now.

Long shirt, technically a nightgown, if anyone cares about labels. Sheer. Loose. Bare underneath.One strap falling off my shoulder like an accident I didn’t fix.

I don’t care if it’s obvious. I’m not playing subtle anymore. I’m painting in the living room, legs folded on the floor, tits barely covered, and acting like it’s a normal Tuesday.

Because pretending is easier than asking questions I don’t want answers to.

After a bit Daniel stands in the doorway.

I can feel it. That silence that weighs more than words.

Like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or just go back to bed.

“Didn’t think you were up,” he finally says.

I drag the brush across the canvas. Slow. Fluid. Not looking at him.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

He doesn’t reply. Good.

The painting isn’t even that good.

But I make it look effortless. Colors bleeding into skin tones, curves implied, the sweep of a spine against sunlight.

It’s nothing, but it’s honest. Which is more than I can say for whatever the hell last night was.

He walks past me to the kitchen. Doesn’t touch me, doesn’t ask.

I keep painting. Mick comes in a few minutes later, shirtless and still drying his hair. He stops when he sees me, eyes flicking down. Then he glances at Daniel.

“Didn’t realize we were doing naked painting mornings now,” he says dryly.

I smile. “Just needed some light. The bedroom’s too dark.”

Mick narrows his eyes slightly.

Not angry, just… thoughtful, like he’s starting to see something he shouldn’t.

Daniel keeps his back to us, pretending to read the cereal box like it holds national secrets.

No one talks. No one breathes.

Later that afternoon, I hear them talking in the kitchen.

I’m not trying to eavesdrop, not really, but I catch it anyway.

A low voice. Daniel’s. “…not seeing her. I canceled.”

My breath hitches.

“You sure?” Mick asks, careful. “Thought you were flying in for that.”

“I thought so too. Changed my mind.”

A beat.

“She here?”

He doesn’t answer right away. I close my sketchbook before I hear the rest.

That night, Daniel knocks on my door. Quiet. Barely there. I don’t answer. I’m not ready to be looked at like that again, like I’m everything and nothing all at once. So I crawl under Mick’s hoodie, turn off the light, and pretend I’m asleep.

And let him wonder.

The apartment shrinks with each day that passes. We don’t talk about that night.

We don’t talk at all.

Daniel goes out most evenings now. Never says where. Never asks if I’m coming.

He leaves behind cologne and silence, and I pretend I don’t watch the door after it closes.

I paint in the living room when he’s gone. Nothing full. Just pieces. A curve of a shoulder. A hand without a body. A neck turned away.

I don’t name them. I don’t have to.

Sometimes I find him watching me, when he thinks I don’t see. His eyes linger on my brush strokes, on my bare thighs folded under oversized shirts, on the pink smudge of paint on my jaw. But he never says anything, never comes closer. Just tension. Like lightning that never strikes.

Mick notices, of course he does.

One morning he pushes a cup of coffee toward me without looking up from his phone and says, too casually:

“So… you and Daniel. Did something happen?”

I lift the mug. “What?”

He shrugs. “You’re weird. He’s weird. The air feels like a bad group chat no one wants to leave.”

I snort. “We just haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “But people don’t just get quiet like that unless they’re trying not to feel something.”

I take a long sip and change the subject.

I don’t know how to answer.

Or maybe I do, and I just don’t want to say it out loud.

By day four, the silence is unbearable.

By day six, I want to scream.

But I don’t.

Not yet.

I’ve started leaving my paintings around the apartment.

Not for show. Not for anyone.

It’s just… I don’t finish them lately.

They hang half-dry on chairs and windowsills, edges curling, shadows waiting for color that never comes.

There’s one leaning against the bookshelf: a close-up of someone’s jaw, the sweep of a beard I pretended wasn’t inspired by him.

Another one on the table: hands gripping fabric, knuckles white.

I think Daniel knows they’re about him.

I think Mick is starting to suspect it too.

It happens over something stupid.

Mick’s trying to cook. Daniel’s teasing him about the way he cuts onions. I’m rinsing brushes in the sink, already tense from the way Daniel looked at one of the drying canvases that morning, long, lingering, and unreadable.

“You know, not every brush in this place needs to be in the sink,” Daniel says suddenly, glancing over at me. “There’s, like… no water pressure left.”

I don’t look up. “Didn’t know you were the brush police now.”

Mick snorts. “Oh no. Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Daniel presses, a little too hard. “If you’re gonna paint half-naked in every room, maybe don’t leave turpentine in the damn coffee mugs.”

I freeze.

That lands wrong.

It lands like judgment. Like bitterness.

I turn to him, voice clipped. “Sorry. Didn’t realize the artist lifestyle offended your delicate sensibilities.”

Mick looks between us, eyes narrowing.

“It doesn’t offend me,” Daniel says, arms crossing. “It’s just… chaotic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not tidy enough for you. Or maybe you’d prefer if I cleaned up and kept quiet, like I used to.”

Daniel’s mouth tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“What, talk?” I spit. “Or remind you that you only care when no one else is watching?”

Mick stops stirring. The room goes dead quiet.

Daniel steps forward. Just slightly. But the tension pulls like wire between us.

“This isn’t about brushes,” Mick says slowly.

“No shit,” I mutter, turning back to the sink.

Daniel exhales sharply, jaw clenched. “You always do this—”

“Do what?” I snap. “Speak?”

“No, deflect. You act like you don’t care and then throw a fit when someone tries to say something real.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is real what you were doing last night before your date with Emilia?”

Mick says my name. Quiet, warning. But I don’t stop.

“Or is this just your thing? You flirt, you fuck, and then you pretend it didn’t mean anything when someone else calls?”

Daniel’s face hardens. “I canceled that. You think I would’ve.. after you—”

“After me what?” I challenge. “Tell me, Daniel. What am I to you?”

Mick drops the spoon in the pot with a loud clang. “Okay,” he mutters. “That’s enough.”

But neither of us look at him. Daniel’s eyes are burning into me, and for once, I don’t look away. Daniel looks at me, jaw tight, mouth open like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Or can’t. And that’s worse.

That silence. That hesitation.

That’s the answer I didn’t want.

I feel the rage before I feel the hurt.

It starts in my chest, then floods my limbs, hot and wild and impossible to cage.

I look around the apartment and all I can see is him.

His stubble in a half-drawn profile.

His fingers, painted in shadow and blue oil.

His mouth, unfinished on a canvas that never dried.

They’re all him. Every last one of them.

I grab the closest one, the one with his hands tangled in sheets, and slam it face-down on the floor. The frame cracks.

Daniel flinches. “Don’t—”

But I’m already reaching for another. A half-finished portrait of just his back, shoulders bare, light hitting the curve of his spine like I memorized it. Rip. Paint splits like skin.

Mick steps forward. “Hey—hey. What are you—”

But I’m not listening. I can’t. I grab one off the windowsill, toss it into the sink, smear it with my palm, water and turpentine ruining every careful stroke.

The one with his lips — I punch straight through the middle of the canvas.

The one with his eyes — I don’t even look at.

I tear them. I gut them.

If I could burn them with my bare hands, I would.

Because they were stupid.

Because I was stupid.

Because loving him, seeing him, putting him into every line — it didn’t make him stay.

It never would.

When it’s done, I’m breathing like I ran a marathon. My hands are covered in paint. My face is wet — I don’t remember crying.

Daniel is frozen in place. Eyes wide. Pain everywhere on his face.

Mick doesn’t say a word. Just looks between us like something finally clicked.

I walk to the door, pull it open.

“I’m done,” I say, voice hollow. “Don’t follow me.”

And I leave.

(Part three here)

#daniel ricciardo #smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oneshot #f1 x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #carlos sainz #lando norris #charles leclerc #max verstappen #oscar piastri #george russell #franco colapinto #Spotify

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fabuloustrash05 · 1 year ago

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You know that moment in season 4 when Raph saves Mona Lisa from falling, he catches her and they end up like this:

BIG missed opportunity to do the romance trope of accidental falling into their arms, ending up on top of one another in a cute but awkward encounter.

Like if you slow down the scene before this shot, you can see that Raph is holding Mona close to him and making sure she is protected by having his shell hit the impacted of the fall. So yeah, missed opportunity to have the aftermath being Raph finding himself on top of Mona (or vice versa) from holding her close to him. Raph, after realizing how they ended up, starts awkwardly panicking, blushing like a dork, frantically asking her if she's okay and trying to remove himself from the position because it's so close and personal. Meanwhile Mona is not phased and it just happy they're both safe and unharmed, all while having more reasons to be in love with her turtle bf.

#the trope in anime is called “suggestive collision” but imagine it as NOT suggestive and more cute and silly #thats what im thinking of #Please someone draw my vision 🙏#random thoughts #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt raph 2012 #raphael hamato #tmnt mona lisa #mona lisa tmnt #tmnt ramona #raphmona #raph x mona #the war for dimension x

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starboye · 8 months ago

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Kinktober Day 15

starring: bellamy blake x male reader

request: bellamy blake x thick fem boy reader, where everyone is having a party with drinking and dancing, and bellamy see reader dancing with other men and they keep grabbing his big ass bc it’s so big. so bellamy takes reader away and fucks that ass (also some face sitting 😏)

warnings: smut, cursing, rough sex, face sitting, mentions of alcohol, grinding, ass grabbing, ass slapping, cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, femboy!reader

directors cut: hey frien- oop did you do something different with your hair, or is it a new skincare routine because your skin is glowing, am i buttering you up to make you forget about the fact im behind on these kinktober stories.... obvi no why would i ever do such a thing... was it working though

you were irresistible, the way you danced with everyone else had bellamy thinking thoughts that should not be heard by anyone let alone you, but he couldn't control his find with the way you dressed, your shorts riding up your ass which left little to nothing to imagination.

and damn did he love the way you moved your body around the campfire, bottle of alcohol in hand, taking messy swigs from it from time to time, but what instantly ruined the mood was when some random dude came up behind you and started touching up on you.

that should be him so why does this fuck bag get to grab on your ass and may i say luscious thighs, he was getting way to close for comfort also, he was basically fucking you through his clothes, seeing as this didn't sit right with bellamy he walked over and snatched you away from the party and dragged you to a nearby tent.

"bellamyyyy what the fuck i was just having fu-" your cut off by his lips crashing against your and him taking off your tight shorts to reveal your wobbly ass, it was like putty in his hands or like a water balloon with the way it jiggled in his hands "you gonna just stand there and look or are y'gonna get to work" bellamy smirked and you got to work in taking off his shirt and yours but struggled with his pants.

those goddamn buttons were so hard to get off it was annoying both of you so bellamy just opted to keep them on and unzip them to slide his cock through, and with that the moaning soon began, bellamy fucking you into the ground with hard thrusts, there wasn't much cushioning between the blanket you had under you and the ground so with the hardening thrust so came the hurting back.

"fuck bellamy, go a little softer i am still on the ground" you strain out through thrusts "would you like me to fuck you doggy style till you have no feeling in your legs" bellamy asks roughly with deep grunts making you shake your head no "then shut up" he growls as his hands tighten around the blanket under you.

your eyes were flicking to the back of your head with every thrust he made, punching a moan out of you every time, it was hard to even stay sane when you had a cock like his splitting your hole in two like a fucking piece of wood but god did you love it, it felt so good, his strong body on top of yours while he fucked you was like seeing the mona lisa.

oh but bellamy, well he just loved the way your hole fit him nicely, and the way your ass recoiled with every plap heard but drowned out by the partying and singing from the group further away "only if the group saw you now hm taking my cock like a fucking slut, so pretty" he snarled slapping your as harshly, your whole body jolting to the pain but it also kinda turned you on more.

more just enough to cum, all your cum landing in a puddle on your stomach "you tighten up when you cum, did you know that" bellamy laughs at your slightly dazed state "yeah thanks bill nye the fucking science guy" you joke "fuck im gonna cum" bellamy suddenly grunts and for a split second you can feel him about to pull out so you lock your legs around his waist.

and before his brain can even clock what you did he cums, he eyes rolling into the back of his head as he does so, it just felt so good i mean how could he contain it "slut" bellamy mutters slowly pulling out of your messy hole "i know you are but what am i" you laugh making him grab your face to kiss you before plopping down next to you.

he suddenly gained an idea in the dull head of his "sit on my face" he bluntly asks "what" you shaken by the request "sit on my fucking face" bellamy asks again and if it mean shutting him up then yes please, you straddle your legs to the side of his head and fully sit on his face, all your weight pressed down on him like if he was a chair.

to him he was in heaven, tongue poking at your hole and exploring your depths as he ate you out literally, he sucked and swallowed the cum from your hole like a five star meal before lifting you off him for some air "now that's what im talkin' about" he excitedly said, seems like this was going to be a reoccurring thing from now on

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x male reader #x male reader #gay smut #x male y/n #x male smut #x male #gay #bottom male reader #male reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 #the 100 x reader #the 100 x male reader #kinktober

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deanwritings · 8 months ago

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The Guest House - Chapter 12

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,760

A/N: I'm back! Therapy has been great, I'm feeling like myself and that I can breath again. It's been a tough year and ya girl's mind needed a restart, but I am back and doing good.

Also, hope this chapter can be a bit of escape with the election insanity this week. Take care of yourselves everyone! 💖

Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he rests against the door.

What the fuck are you doing? Is all that rings in his mind.

Here he is, with some random girl who's staying in his guest house, put there by his bitch of an ex wife, basically groping her while his mother is a room away. Like he’s seventeen again.

Really and truly. What the fuck. Are. You. Doing?

Dean rubs an exasperated hand down his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes before his hands slap down against his sides.

It’s the whiskey. He tells himself. Just the whiskey.

It has nothing to do with your smile. Like when you lit up on the track when you found out Rick would be taking you racing in your dream car.

Nor your smart ass remarks that always seem to be waiting behind those pretty lips of yours. Or how you drive him crazy in the best and worst ways. Like making him say “please” in the garage this afternoon.

It definitely has nothing to do with the way you look at him, no longer with disdain, but more recently with shining Y/E/C eyes and something that makes him want to throw you against this damn door, his nose running down the delicate skin of your neck as he takes you in as his hands explore every part of you.

It also doesn’t help how you react to him; like when he turned your manners game around on you in the garage, and your eyes lit up in a way that made him want to throw you across the hood of Baby and have his way with you. Then just now in the hallway, how you seemed to want this as much as he did. How you leaned into him at his touch, the feel of your curves everywhere as he held you against him.

Those god damn hips.

Dean’s jaw tightens at the thought, his teeth grinding down as something besides his heart rate starts to rise.

Fuck. His head falls back with a thud against the doorframe.

Y/N is hardly the first woman he’s been attracted to since his separation from Lisa. Hell, in the beginning, women were what kept his mind off his imploded marriage. Benny had laughed that Dean was making up for lost time since he and Lisa had gotten together when they were so young, but in reality, Dean just hated coming home to an empty house every day. All he could think of was Lisa and Gavin in his house. In his bed.

But Dean would be lying to himself if this was only attraction. Ever since their hike, he’s found himself looking towards your cabin everyday before work, hoping to catch a glance of you before he has to leave. When sitting at his empty dining table, he would think about texting you, or maybe even going over and knocking on the cabin door, envisioning interrupting your own meal and riling you up in the process. Watching that fire come alive in you set something alive in Dean. It was like a wildfire, and he was happily caught in its path. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that. Somehow, at some point, you had drawn him in, and god damn did he want more. So much more.

And it’s not just your body he wants to get to know. He’s found himself wondering what your favorite color is, or what movies you like to watch. He wanted to know, besides him, what made you tick? What makes you happy?

Could I make her happy?

Dean shakes his head and toes his boots off, shaking his head, trying to rid his thoughts of you. He doesn’t want to think about that last question, because he knows the answer.

And while he tries to focus on undressing, his body is not willing to let go of the idea of you just yet.

He’s wound up, and god damnit did he need a release.

He undoes his belt and reaches into his boxers, feeling himself strain against the fabric as he takes a deep breath. He grunts, squeezing his eyes shut before pulling his hand out of his pants.

He shakes his head. He can’t do this. Not with you a wall away and his mother across the hall. He has some self respect. Not much, but he couldn’t sink as low as jerking off to you while you slept in his little brother’s room.

Sam.

And just like that, thinking of Sammy snaps him out of it. He relaxes with a deep breath, the tension finally beginning to fade away.

For extra measure, he pushes himself off the door and pulls it open, striding quickly down the hall to the unoccupied bathroom. He locks the door behind him and reaches into the shower and throws the water on. He drops his undone pants, letting them and his boxers pool around his feet before stepping out of them and throwing his sweater over his head before stepping into the shallow tub.

He takes in a sharp breath as the cold spray of the shower meets his heated skin, his teeth clenched tight as he drowns himself under the stream as he works to think about anything but you.

Your eyes flutter open, a glimmer of the morning sun sneaking through the gaps of the curtained window. You take in a deep breath, flipping from your side to your back and sigh as you look up at the ceiling.

Your mind is still reeling from last night; Dean’s hands holding you tight against him, his lips teasing your neck.

You shut your eyes and swallow.

It was simultaneously one of the hottest and most frustrating things a man has ever done to you. Of course you had wished he had done a hell of a lot more, but the tease of it somehow made it that much more exciting. It made you wonder what else was in store for you. Just a sweet little taste of the possibilities that was Dean Winchester.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand beside you, and you shake off last night’s memories as you lean over to pick it up, the screen reading 9:52 with a few notifications beneath it.

Shit. You quickly sit up. Normally, this would be a regular wakeup time for you on vacation or on the weekends, but you were a guest in someone’s home, and it felt incredibly rude to be up here sleeping while they were most likely downstairs waiting for you.

As you scramble out of bed, the throb from last night’s wine is front and center in your head. You reach into your purse and throw back two Advil with a swash of water that you set out on your bedside last night before you throw on some fuzzy socks and a hoodie large enough to snuggle yourself into.

Before you reach for the door, you peek at yourself in the full-length mirror and grimace. You smooth down your hair and give it a fluff with your fingers before you reach into your makeup bag, dabbing on some concealer under your eyes and on a few of your red spots, with a light swipe of subtle blush on your cheeks before you deem you look good enough without looking like you’re trying.

You take a deep breath and open the door, taking in the quiet hallway and noticing both the doors to Mary and Dean’s rooms are ajar.

Fuck. You were at least hoping Dean might have also slept in after last night. But no such luck.

You head down the stairs, your hand on the rail so you don’t slip in your socks before you wander into the kitchen. Mary is sitting at the table in front of the windows, one of her legs propped up and her head hidden by a book. Dean is hunched on a barstool at the island, a plate of food in front of him, currently being shoveled into his mouth, his usual caveman behavior, you’ve noticed, when it comes to food.

“Morning,” you offer softly as you head over to the coffee maker, a half pot waiting for you. Mary had given you a tour of the kitchen while you cooked dinner last night, and you reach into the cabinet above the brewer and grab a light yellow ceramic mug and fill it about 3/4s of the way.

“Milk’s in the fridge.” Dean mumbles over the food in his mouth and you turn to face him fully. His eyes are cast down at a paper spread flat in front of him next to his breakfast. A smile you hadn’t intended falls at his lack of attention and you head over to the fridge, pouring until your coffee resembles the color of sand. Exactly how you liked it.

“Want some coffee with that milk?” That deep voice rings out again, and this time when you look up, you’re met with Dean’s enchanting, forest eyes. Your heart skips a beat in your chest and you recap the milk before putting it away and closing the fridge door.

“Some of us enjoy flavor.” You smirk at him as you lean against the counter behind you, your hands wrapped tightly around the warmed mug, the kitchen cool in this March morning.

“Milk doesn’t have flavor.” Dean grumbles, shoving a fork filled with eggs into his mouth. You frown at him.

It’s like the tale of two Deans. The suave, sexy sweatered Dean who looks at you like he’ll throw you over your shoulder and make you scream until your voice is hoarse, and the pain-in-the-ass, mannerless idiot you’ve mostly grown accustomed to these last few weeks.

Looks like you were getting the idiot this morning. You sigh at your own disappointment and swallow down your frown, wondering what that means about last night.

When you don’t respond, Dean looks back to you, a question in his eyes.

“There’s a plate for you in the oven.” Dean points his fork to said appliance. You turn your head, following the direction of his utensil-turned-compass.

“Oh,” your shoulders drop. “You didn’t have to save me a plate.” You feel your cheeks flush at the thought that they waited for you so long this morning that they had to keep a plate warm for you in the oven.

“Oh don’t worry, Dean made it fresh.” Mary peeks out from behind her book for a quick second before disappearing again behind the cover. Dean drops his fork with a clank and shoots his mother a look, one she misses.

You push off the counter and pad over to the oven. You pull open the door to find a blue ceramic plate.

No way.

You pull out the plate from the oven, the platter only slightly warm, and are greeted with two pancakes and a side of bacon.

You quickly close the oven and turn on your heel facing Dean.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice catches in your throat as you stare down at the fluffy buttermilk pancakes sitting poised on the plate.

“Yeah, well, mom made eggs and I know your picky ass won’t eat those. Can’t have you starve before a big day.” Dean’s eyes met yours for only a moment before he shifts on the barstool and returns to his paper.

You smile, even though Dean’s not looking at you anymore. You maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing a fork and knife before settling down at the island, a barstool between you and Dean.

You turn and look at him, his shapely jawline adorned with a devilish level of scruff.

“Thank you.” You say earnestly. This catches Dean’s attention, his gaze finding and holding yours long enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Don’t mention it.” He lingers on you for a moment longer before turning back to his paper and flipping a page.

Your lips quirk but you try to not think too much on it as you begin digging in; the pancakes, buttery and full of vanilla, melting deliciously in your mouth.

The rest of breakfast goes on in silence; Mary reading her book, Dean focused on the paper, and you left flipping through your phone since no one seemed interested in chatting.

As you load up your dishes in the dishwasher, Dean folders his paper up and slaps it down on the counter before sitting up straight and crossing his arms as he stares you down.

“Think you can be ready in an hour?” Your face falls.

“More notice would have been nice, but yes, I can be ready in an hour.”

“Good, cause we’re leaving in an hour.” You cross your arms, matching his stance.

“You don’t say.” Dean rolls his eyes at you and you huff.

“Just go get ready.” He shakes his head, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

Such a pain in the ass. A handsome pain with a handsome ass. But still a pain.

“Fine. See you in an hour.”

Forty-seven minutes later, you’re showered, your hair is dried and curled into a soft wave, and you’re putting on the finishing touches of your makeup when there’s a soft knock on your door.

You peek at your watch.

“I still have thirteen minutes!” You call out.

Dean really was pushing the boundaries today. And it was driving you crazy.

He practically dry humps you last night, ignores you this morning, but makes you a delicious breakfast because he remembered you hate eggs. The man was impossible and it was starting to annoy you. And frustrate you, in a way you were not used to. You bite down on your lip.

“It’s just me.” Mary’s gentle voice calls back.

Shit.

You drop your mascara into your makeup bag and push yourself off the floor and scurry to the door.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as soon as Mary comes into view. “I assumed you were Dean.” You offer a half smile as Mary chuckles.

“It’s okay. Mind if I come in.” You step aside and open the door fully, allowing Mary to step in.

“I just wanted to see if you need any help with your outfit.”

“My outfit?” Your brow furrows, and you look over to your bed where your black chunky sweater and jeans lay waiting for you. Mary’s eyes follow your line of sight.

“I’m going to guess Dean didn’t give you a heads up, since men never think about these things, but these car shows tend to be on the dresser side.”

Fuck. No, Dean did not tell you that. Your jeans were the nicest thing you brought with you.

“Yeah, he failed to mention that.” Now you stare at your outfit, anxiety flooding through you at the thought of sticking out for being underdressed.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Mary just smiles at you.

“Come with me.” She waves at you before heading out of the room, and like you’re told, you follow her, heading across the hall and into her bedroom.

The room is large and full of windows and natural light. The lake-chic theme of the downstairs continues through the primary bedroom, with white furniture, a canopy bed with a blue bedspread that matches the wainscot walls, and yellow accents throughout the room. On one of the dressers is a large, framed, selfie of Mary and John, which looks more recent than a lot of the pictures in the living room. Mary’s smile is bright as ever as John kisses her cheek, the two of them in heavy jackets and beanie hats, the hint of snow behind them.

Mary continues through the room, stopping in a short hallway before disappearing through a doorway.

“I’ve got a few options that will probably fit you.” Mary’s muffled voice carries through the open doorway before she steps back into view, several hangers in her hand. “You look to be about my size from twenty years ago. And luckily I’m terrible at throwing out old clothes.” She chuckles as she lays out her six options on the ombre comforter that probably matches the lake when it’s not frozen.

They’re all a mix of dresses, different colors and styles, but the fifth from the end catches your eye.

“Ohh, how about that one.”

Dean taps his foot as he waits in the foyer, checking his watch again. It’s now been an hour and seven minutes since you went upstairs.

“God dammit woman,” he mutters out in a sigh.

He meant to tell you last night what time you had to be ready, but the two of you got a little preoccupied. Now he was paying for it by not giving you more of a heads up.

He should have said something the moment you came downstairs this morning, but he wasn't ready to face you right at that moment. The dreams he had about you last night made it hard to look you in the eyes. And when he finally did, you looked absolutely beautiful, sleep still in your Y/E/C eyes and a glow in your cheeks. You looked like you belonged here, resting against the counter in his mother’s kitchen, cozied up in some giant hoodie and pajama pants with coffee-flavored milk in your hands.

The floor above him creaks and he turns quickly on his heel, his face dropping with his mood when he sees who it is.

“Is she ready yet?” Dean all but whines to his mother as she descends. Rather than answer him, she stops two steps from the bottom, standing slightly higher than her statuesque son, and smacks him right in the side of the head.

“Ow!” Dean’s hand jumps to where his mother landed her stinging blow. Not that there was much power behind her swat, but she hasn’t smacked him like this since he was a teenager.

“What the hell was that for?” Dean bemoans with a grimace, cradling his head.

“Dean Michael Winchester.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow at his mother’s use of his full name.

This was not good.

“You didn’t think,” Mary takes another step down. “To one,” she raises a finger. “Tell her that the car show is cocktail attire.”

Shit.

“And two.” The second finger goes up. “What time to be ready. So don’t you stand here with a puss face asking when she’s going to be ready.” Dean drops his hand at his mother’s scolding and rolls his eyes.

He starts to shake his head when Mary’s hand makes contact again, the surprise sending Dean stumbling.

“OW!” Dean yells louder this time, more annoyed than actually hurt. With how much smaller Mary was compared to him, Dean doubted she could actually hurt him even if she really wanted to.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Dean.” Her voice is sharp as her grass-green eyes stare him down.

“I’m sorry, fine.” Dean concedes. “I just didn’t think about it.” But Mary doesn’t break eye contact.

“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Mary gives him one last pointed look before taking the final step down and disappearing into the living room.

Dean watches her go before glancing back towards the empty staircase, sighing out his frustration and giving you a few more minutes of grace.

Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, Dean is leaning against the frame of the front door when the upstairs landing groans again.

Dean’s head whips in that direction as he pushes off the door, just in time to see you take the first step. You’re wearing the black heeled boots you had on yesterday, but it’s paired with a strapless beige dress, the edges trimmed in black with a matching belt wrapped tight around the gentle curve of your waist.

Without thinking, Dean lets out a low, impressed whistle, ignoring the pounding in his chest as he stands up just a little straighter.

Your hair is down, styled off to one side, with the most makeup Dean has seen you in so far; with full, dark lashes, pink cheeks, and bright red lips, which Dean can’t seem to look away from.

Something else is starting to stand a little straighter too.

Dean clears his throat, and offers out a hand as you get to the last step.

“Thanks,” you reply gently before you drop his hand and head for the coat rack.

“You look nice.” Dean’s now taking in the view of you from the back, leaving little to the imagination like those workout pants did a few weeks ago as the dress seemed to hug your body perfectly.

Damn. And here mom thought you weren’t prepared.

You spin on your heel, one arm shimming into your jacket sleeve, your eyes as bright at your smile.

“Thanks.” You repeat. “The dress is your mom’s.” You smirk.

Dean’s mouth drops open as his stomach falls.

“Please don’t tell me that.” Dean groans. The last thing he needs to think about is his mom in that dress. The same dress he was just checking out your ass in.

You just quietly chuckle as your other arm flails for your second sleeve, just missing the opening.

Without a word, Dean steps closer, grabbing your jacket for you and holding it steady so you can slip your arm into. Once it’s in, Dean raises your jacket just a bit before resting it on your shoulders.

You turn back to him with a smile of thanks, which he can’t help but return.

“Ready?”

“Sure am.”

Dean opens the front door for you and you step outside into the bracing afternoon air.

“Have fun, kids!” Mary’s voice travels behind the two of you as Dean steps outside and closes the door behind him.

You take gentle steps across the driveway, avoiding the few patches of ice that are still lingering. This gives Dean the opening he needs to step in front of you, getting to the passenger door of the Impala about three steps ahead of you.

Without a word, he pulls open the door.

“Wow, getting the full gentleman treatment today, huh.” Your cheek dimples with your half smile as you lower yourself into the passenger seat. Dean smiles down at you.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” You chuckle as Dean gently shuts the door before heading around to the driver’s seat and hopping in.

With one last check of the mirrors, Dean backs out of the driveway, and the two of you were off.

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #the guest house

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