#I've never used this brush so it was a delight to try out

[enthusiastic-nimrod]

[fairysluna]

I have a request 🙄🤭 threesome cregan Jace and reader no plot just smut maybe? Either modern or not

MASTERLIST

Hope you like this story made especially for you!! please enjoy it and thank you for sending this request🤍 This is the first threesome I've ever written, so this is complete new territory for me, I hope I did good tho.💀

Reblogs, comments and feedback are highly appreciated!

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — canon!time, targcest (brother/sister), porn w/o plot, smut (threesome, F/M/M, oral sex - both receiving, face fucking, p in v, slight degrading, breeding, praising, spit, pussy slapping, belly buldge, overstimulation, aftercare), cursing, a tiny bit of cregan x jace, cregan and reader are betrothed, dom!cregan/switch!jace/sub!reader. If something is missing let me know!!

WORD COUNT — 2k.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Cregan loved to hear how overstimulated you were. His hands were gripping your thighs - keeping your legs spreaded. He saw how Jacaerys was eagerly lapping at your throbbing clit, moaning and whimpering against your flesh. You were crying already, tears of raw pleasure streaming down your face as your entire body trembled between his arms. You were barely able to hold it together anymore, laying against Cregan's chest - eyelids closing by themselves.

Jacaerys, your sweet brother, had no intention to stop. His tongue doing wonders as he dived it inside of you - his nose rubbing against your clit. His face was red and sweaty, covered in your slick after stealing three orgasm from you - yet it seemed he hadn't had enough. Your hips would twitch, trying to squirm away from his hungry mouth without success.

“Please, stop! It's- it's too much… I can't!” you mumbled, digging your nails in Cregan's arm. “Jace- Jace, please…”

The youngest man looked up from his position, his tongue still attached to your folds, slowly circling around your swollen pearl while his deep, brown eyes stared at you through a layer of lust. He searched for Cregan's approval, and he denied it.

“Don't listen to her,” he huskily said. His hot breath against your neck caused shivers down your spine. “She's a tough girl, right? I bet she can handle another one.”

“M-my lord… please…”

“What kind of host would I be if I don't make sure my guests are satisfied?” A deep laugh followed his words, a simple sound that almost pushed you over the edge. “Your dear brother hasn't finished his meal yet, be a good princess and keep your legs open for him, okay? He’ll know when it's enough.”

Jacaerys followed Lord Stark's words, indulging further in your taste until you were nothing but a mess between their arms. He would use his fingers to tease your entrance, pushing them in and then pulling them out to lick you off. He repeated this action multiple times, until you were cumming on his face once again and coating his long fingers with your slick. He hummed, delighted to drink from you, enjoying the sweetness of your release and devouring every single drop that came out of you.

Once he finally decided to pull away, you sighed - relieved that he had finally stopped and gave you time to rest. Cregan cooed against your ear, praising you with soft words as his thumbs wiped the tears that had fallen down your warm cheeks.

“Such a good job,” he murmured. “Taking everything we give you, huh?.”

“I'll never get tired of her taste,” Jacaerys added- almost in a whine, caressing your thighs. “So sweet, and so addictive.”

“Oh. Do you hear how greatly your brother speaks of you? He's so sweet, so nice to you- to us…” he added, looking at the Prince who was kneeling in bed in front of the both of you. “I think you should reward him for what he has done to you.”

Jacaerys whimpered, thrilled with the idea.

“Look at him, princess,” Cregan added, stretching his arm and holding Jace's cheek. His thumb brushed against his plump lips. “Our poor Prince has his lips sore after eating your sweet little cunt for too long ”

You observed in awe how your brother parted his lips to receive Cregan's thumb inside his mouth - his tongue twirling around his digit as his brown eyes glint with lust. A moan escaped from you, feeling the arousal pooling on your soaked flesh. The neediness inside your body only increased once you saw your lordship bringing his thumb to his own mouth, and tasting the mixture of your juices and Jace's drool. Your mouth parted, bewitched by the scene.

“Mhm…” he groaned in approval, “it still tastes like you.” He let out a throaty chuckle. “I suppose now it's time for you to give your dear brother a reward for what he did to you. He deserves it after being such a good boy, isn't that right?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, agreeing with him.

“What if… you suck his cock while I fuck you with mine? Doesn't that sound good?” Cregan proposed with a smile.

“Please,” your brother replied before you did.

Cregan looked at you for your consent and you effusively nodded - a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

You sighed tiredly once you felt his arms wrapping around your body and moving you around as if you were his doll. He did it so effortlessly, positioning you on your back with your head almost hanging from the edge of the bed and with a pillow below your hips. You noticed how he signed to your brother and he immediately moved until he was standing in front of your face - his leaking tip just mere inches away from your drooling mouth.

“Spread your legs for me,” Cregan commanded, and you immediately obeyed. Your exposed flesh was burning red, drenching with all the stimulation it had before, glistening under the dim lights of the candles and the fireplace. “So pretty…” he murmured, using his thumb to play with your clit, slowly drawing circles on it - you mewled. “I understand why your brother is so obsessed with you, my princess. You have the prettiest cunt in the whole fucking realm.”

He pulled away, enough to stand up from the bed and get rid of his pants. Seconds later, his hardness stood proudly as he crawled back at you, bouncing with every movement he made until he was towering your smaller frame. Cregan gathered his drool on his mouth to then let it fall right on top of your folds - he spreaded it with the head of his cock and, before you knew it, he was slowly stretching your tightness. Your walls would clamp around him, involuntarily trying to push him out as he struggled to sink deeper into you.

“Seven hells,” he grunted, “you're still struggling to take me, huh? Guess I'll have to fuck you more often then.”

As you felt the air leaving your legs with each thrust, you saw Jacaerys grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes at it. With his tip, he tapped on your swollen lips and you opened wide to receive him too. “There you go…” you heard him saying, before he let you wrap your mouth against him. “Mhm… so good,” he praised you.

The whine that escaped you once Cregan was fully sheathed on you was muffled due to your stuffed mouth. Both men moaned at the same time, looking at your body laying there, ready to be used as they pleased.

Gods, they truly loved their little princess.

Cregan was not being very patient as other times, and he quickly started to pound roughly against you, holding your hips to keep you in place as the movement made you take Jace deeper in your mouth. The youngest man started to move his hips too, unable to be still and longing for more - obsessed with the sight of your breasts bouncing in your chest with each thrust.

The main room in the Winterfell castle soon was filled with desperate panting and moaning. The sound of Cregan's body slamming against yours was buzzing in your ears while he managed to hit every right place inside your soft walls, abusing that sweet spot that would make you see stars behind your eyelids. All while you were choking around Jacaerys' cock, who was moving himself deeper with each passing second.

Both of your brother's hands wrapped around your throat to find some stability, this gesture made you cry out in pleasure - loving the way you felt with his hands around your neck.

“Come on, little one,” he grunted as he looked down at your drooling mouth, receiving him so eagerly while you gagged and gulped around him. “I know you can take me deeper… Go on- oh fuck, just like that… shit.”

“Who would've thought that our Princess was such a good slut?” Cregan added, breathless as dig his nails on your hips. “Can't wait to marry our little whore and fill her with my seed until she's round with my pups…” The way your walls squeezed him so tightly made him know that you loved the idea too. “Perhaps I'll let your brother fill this cunny too, mhm? Bet you would love it- fuck… ”

Jacaerys hands involuntarily tightened his grip around your throat, and you knew he was getting closer. “Fuck- M’so close…” he whined. “Fuuck…”

“Imagine it, my prince,” Cregan teased him, smirking as he locked eyes with him. “Her pretty cunny leaking with your seed, her belly filled and round. Isn't that such a pretty sight?”

“Y-yes…” he mumbled, struggling to keep his movements steady. “Oh, fuck… yes.”

His eyes closed as he leaned his head back, and suddenly his length escaped from your lips - you gasped. He peaked right there, letting a few drops of his seed spurt on your breasts before he would put his cock back into your mouth so you could swallow the rest. You eagerly licked it all, cleaning him as felt his legs getting weak with the subtle overstimulation you were providing him - yet, it felt too delicious to stop.

“What a piece of art,” Cregan mumbled, seeing your skin being tainted by pearly drops. “So fucking pretty.”

Jacaerys fell on his knees next to you, you felt his hand slipping down your body as Lord Stark pounded against you like a savage. Your brother's fingers found your swollen pearl, slowly stroking it while you were being filled. Cregan groaned in approval, fastening his pace.

The creamy sound of your juices covering his cock was so obscene, bringing a slight embarrassment to you - Gods, you were so wet. With the overstimulation you were receiving once again, you felt closer to edge faster than you thought.

“Come on, my pretty girl,” Jace cooed in your ear as he peppered soft kisses around it. “I know you're so close… you were so good to us, letting us use you as we pleased. You deserve to cum.”

His fingers stopped tracing figures on your clit, only to replace it with soft taps against your sensitive flesh. You mewled.

“Look how deep Cregan is,” he mentioned with a smirk. “I can see it in your tummy…”

“M’so close…” you mumbled. “Gods! Please, I need it so bad…”

Jace removed his hand from your core, taking it to your mouth where he slipped in two fingers. You receive them eagerly, twirling your tongue around it and sucking them off as you taste yourself. Meanwhile, Cregan grabbed the back of your legs, pressing your thighs against your body and going deeper and harder against you. You tried to keep up with the intensity of it all, but it was too much - tears were falling down your face as you were fucked against the mattress, barely able to move.

“Come on, let me feel you, princess,” he grunted as he buried his face on your neck. “Want you to fall apart in my arms…”

Your skin was burning and you were gasping, trying to fill your lungs with the air they needed - Cregan would grunt against your skin, being loud and shameless as he was about to reach his peak. You suddenly felt the waves of an intense orgasm washing over you as you released your pleasure in spurs, soaking the sheets beneath you and your Cregan's hair trail. That sight must have been the limit for him, who immediately filled you up with his seed, covering your insides with his pearly drops until it started to leak out of you.

His body pressed against yours as he tried to calm down. His length would twitch inside you each time you clenched around him, until he was absolutely dried and spent.

Jacaerys went to look for something to clean you up, almost moaning when he saw Cregan pulling out of you and his seed oozing from your entrance. Such an obscene view had both men drooling.

You were too tired to even move, so after they made sure to wipe out the sticky mess between your legs, they grabbed your body and took you to the center of the bed - laying between them. Right in that moment, you felt like you were in heaven, being pampered by the two men you loved the most and receiving all the attention you desired.

The fact that this was your future brought a smile on your face.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

[luveline]

Jadeee you are feeding us well today (screw those anons) if you’re still taking requests i thought the “would you still love me as a worm” prompt was funny and am curious to see Steve’s version if possible? If you’re not taking requests, so sorry!

hi! tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Steve arrives with a shout and a loud bang. You glance up from your book, ear turned to the stairs as he hisses a swear. 

"You okay?" you call. 

He swears again. "Hey! I forgot you were coming over tonight."

You lounge in his bed in pyjamas he bought for you, your hair out of your face, completely at home. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine." 

Steve bounds up the steps from the sounds of it, mildly breathless but beaming as he passes the threshold and launches himself at you. You shriek as he crushes the pages of your book between you, his hands needling under your back and his weight on your stomach. "You're freezing!" you yelp, trying to squirm away. 

He's too determined. "God, I'm happy you're here. I'm thinking, fuck, I miss my baby, I wonder if she'll answer my calls tonight or if I'll have to beg–" 

"Yeah, because I usually make you beg to see me." You brush the hair from his face, eyes narrowed at him playfully. 

Steve shifts his weight to keep the majority of it off of you, one leg sliding between yours and the other on the outside of your thigh. His lips are as cold as his hands but gentle as he kisses you, misaligned, your bottom lip clearly catching his attention. "I would've," he murmurs between soft kissing, his nose brushing yours as he raises higher. "Would've done anything." 

"Lucky you, I never make a pretty boy beg," you say, his breath warming your lips. You stay like that for two seconds, three, eyes closed and breathing in the other.

He gives you a quick peck before settling in the curve of your neck. "This is awesome. Friday night party. Oh! And I've been meaning to ask you something so it's perfect that you're right here, Robin asked me and I wanted to ask you because I was thinking about it in the car…" He loses concentration, his hand stroking up behind your shoulder, as if to say, Hey, I got you. 

"Did you get much sleep last night?" you ask, bemused. 

"Totally…" He fakes a snore. 

"Steve. What did you want to ask me?" 

"Oh, yeah." He picks himself up from your neck. You must look squished, soft-jawed and unmade, but Steve doesn't look any less in love than usual. "Would you still love me as a worm?" 

"What?" you ask, stroking his cheek with the back of your pinky. "Do you want to shower before you go totally dumb on me?" 

"I'm serious, this is a serious question. And I only want to shower if you're coming with me, but this is important. Would you love me if I was a worm?" 

"Yeah, Steve. Of course I would." You smile as he smiles, tandem beaming that feels silly but good. "Why would you be a worm, though?" 

"See, this is what I asked Rob, and she said that doesn't matter but it doesn't make any sense. I told her I'd love her if she was a worm and she said she wouldn't love me because bugs give her the heebies. That's sick, right?" 

"Well, would you love me if I was?" you ask. 

"Are you stupid?" Steve noses at your neck, words said in tiny bursts of heat on your skin, "I'd turn myself into a worm to be with you forever."

"Now I feel like I should've said that." 

"No way. I loved how little you hesitated," he praises. Like a cat nuzzling a post, his hair tickles you. "If we were worms together we wouldn't have to work. We'd spend all day hugging." 

"Ew, all slithered together," you say, delighted. 

"Twisted around each other. Not not like this," he says, kissing your cheek sweetly. "We'd be the best worms ever. Me and you." 

You encourage him off of you to rescue your murdered paperback. Steve rolls onto his back, please smile lingering as he stretches out and sighs with relief. He needs a shower, and a shoulder massage, or a naked back rub while you watch TV. You'll order takeout, eat it with wet hair from the shower and ankles locked on the couch. 

"I'm glad we're not worms," you say, sitting up. Steve meets your eyes, his brown and dark in the dim lighting. "I really love us right now. I love you." 

You kiss his forehead. 

"I'll go get the shower running, okay?" you ask, climbing from the bed.

Steve's voice comes quiet and hoarse as he calls after you, "I love you too!"

[middlingmay]

I've seen a few Hockey AUs around here.

And for someone who's never seen a game of hockey in their puff, I do love a good Hockey AU.

So whilst I'm 100% never going to write one, how about this? :

Imagine John is one of the biggest Hockey stars in the US. Mahoosive. And he's known for being the sweetest guy with no ego about it, too.

He constantly talks up his team mates and is the biggest team player. He's openly critical of the coaching team when he thinks it's called for. He tries the direct approach first, but when they won't listen, the next time someone shoves a camera in his face, something's going to go down. This is usually when there's been an avoidable injury.

He pops up at local kids club games whenever he has downtime, wherever he is, and spends loads of time with them and is really encouraging.

And Gale, being woefully ignorant about the land of sport has absolutely no idea who he is.

Maybe he takes Marge's kid to practice sometimes, and he sees John there and just thinks he's a friend of the coach, given how delighted the coach is to see him (and maybe how the coach hangs off him, too).

Gale lets himself look. It's been a while and John is cute. All bright, easy smiles and patience with the kids, even as they try scaling his legs and back like a jungle gym (but only when their skates are off).

And John notices Gale and keeps catching him looking and they both keep looking away and looking back and blushing like children. Idiots, I stg.

And Marge's kid - let's call her Andy - chatters a mile about about how great John is and Gale figures it's not an uncommon occurrence for the coach's friend to come around if Andy knows him that well, but he makes a note to ask Marge about it. And maybe offer to take Andy to more practices. Give Marge and Rosie some time to themselves after work (because fuck it, Marge is married to Rosie in this).

On their way back from practice, Gale sees a hoard of news vans going the opposite way and just thinks, "Huh. Weird."

So he asks Marge if she knows about John - she does, of course. Andy does not shut up about him - and she clocks right away that Gale has no clue who he's been flirting kindergarten-style with and elbows Rosie in the ribs before he can blab. Oh ho, she's going to enjoy this.

John isn't at the next practice, or the one after, and Gale is disappointed, but he can't focus on that for long because his car won't start to take Andy home.

Who arrives on the scene? John Egan.

He offers them a ride and Andy does not give Gale a chance to say no.

Gale is hopelessly, awfully flustered in the front seat. John talks almost as much as Andy and the two chatter and bicker back and forth, because yes John does argue like a 12 year old.

But, he also gesticulates, and his hands get everywhere and if they brush up against Gale one more time, surely his heart can only jolt like that so many times before it's not good for him??

And cute or not, Gale finds it difficult to talk to strangers. Maybe John notices, and asks Gale yes or no questions, offers him little jokes and pretty much doesn't demand any input from Gale which is...New.

He finds himself laughing and offering little bits of conversation unprompted which have John beaming.

John walks them to Marge's door (he thinks it's also Gale's because Andy has blonde hair, too). And when Marge opens to door and Andy says, "Mom, look who it is!" John's face falls - until Rosie appears and Andy calls him Dad.

Marge, seeing an opportunity for mischief, invites John in for dinner as a thank you whilst Rosie calls Ken to get Gale's car. She drops hints about John's work which sail right over Gale's head:

"All that travelling must be hard. And surrounded by all those screaming people?"

"Oh you're in just about every paper and news report on tv."

So Gale, obviously, comes to the conclusion that John is a journalist.

It takes a very, very, very long time for him to find out the truth. Far longer than it should. They've been dating for a while, but with John's travelling and Gale's studies and his work, it just doesn't come up much. When they're together, work isn't at the forefront of their minds. So Gale doesn't quite cotton on to the fact that the sudden uptick in photographers he sees about town are following him and John. And he doesn't really follow the news, so yeah.

I may post more thoughts about this, but I just love Sports AUs in general. I will read every fic any of you write, God help me

[mechanicalpiper]

Another snippet since I've got time to kill and a resurfacing interest to sate

A cocky Hero finally gets caught by Villain and both are *way* too happy about it :3

cw: also suggestive and also kidnapping

Snippet #2

The Villain could hardly contain themself.

After such a long time fighting the Hero, such a long time wanting the Hero... They could hardly believe they'd finally won.

They could hardly believe the hero was finally theirs.

But here they were, waiting eagerly for the sedated hero to finally wake up. Villain had them bound to a chair just as planned, arms and legs held firmly yet safely held against the chair's armrests and legs respectively with the soft silk rope they spent hours picking out in advance- the hero looked even prettier than they could've imagined! Just realizing it all again almost made them squeal in delight for probably the ninth time so far.

They wanted to have the Hero in this position for so, so very long. The person they'd been melting over in every fight they had, the one that caused the Villain to launch entire schemes just to draw them out and hear their adorable voice again, the one they'd imagined in this exact scenario so often- and here they were, completely at the Villain's mercy... their fate entirely out of their control...

Villain snapped out of the daydream hearing a small, precious groan from the Hero. They were finally waking up!

Villain shook their head to get back to reality, standing up, brushing their suit off a little, and moving to be standing in front of the Hero, not too close yet still towering over them ominously. Villain loved the feeling of being the one on top; loved the feeling of being the one in Control. Not in control of the city, what they'd always said was their end goal, but in control of the one thing they'd always truly wanted.

Hero groggily awoke, still looking down semi-consciously. They tried to bring a hand up to their aching head, but it didn't budge, and Villain got the cutest little view of the Hero snapping out of their tired haze, pulling against their restraints as they realized they were securely bound, and best of all, their precious little expression of stifled panic as they looked up and saw who their captor was.

"Sleep well, Hero~?"

Villain let out an absolutely delighted giggle as they watched Hero's struggles ramp up, helplessly squirming in the chairtie in a display so wonderfully pathetic the Villain could hardly believe this was the same person that had cockily made short work of their plans so many times before.

Hero's heart was absolutely racing as they squirmed under Villain's taunting gaze, knowing they were relishing every little detail of what they were seeing. Hero was panicked thinking of all the destruction Villain could cause with them out of the picture, everything they could get away with without the Hero there to stop them... or, that's what the Hero wanted to think.

Of course, they were terrified of everything Villain could do with this opportunity, but terror never made their heart race like this. Fear never made their breathing quicken like this. They were well versed in staying composed in dangerous situations- it was their job, after all- so why was this getting such a reaction out of them?

A small part of them, one they desperately tried to ignore, knew exactly why.

"Hmmm? No snarky comments, huh?" The Villain taunted, adrenaline helping them keep their composure and attitude despite their brain being an absolute mess of adoration in the same way it let them power through the pain in a fight. "That's a first. You're always such a loudmouth. Not used to losing, hmmm?"

The Hero glared back up at them, trying hard to keep a look of defiant anger- the Villain almost melted at the way it seemed to slightly falter, the Hero finally showing genuine worry instead of the cocky confidence that somehow never seemed to backfire on them.

"L-Losing? You haven't won yet." Hero spat back. "This doesn't mean the city's free to take. I'm not the only line of defense. And I k-know you won't be able to keep me here for long."

The Villain had never heard the Hero stutter before- their heart just about melted.

"Oh? So you're admitting you can't do a thing to stop me right now~?" Villain teased back, leaning in slightly which Hero matched by leaning back a little. "No comebacks in that snarky lil head of yours but telling me that maybe the other obstacles will do better than you?"

Hero grit their teeth, infuriated, pushing down every other emotion coursing through their mind at the moment. They tried to think of something to say, some razor-sharp retort as they always could, but for the first time they drew a blank.

For the first time in a while, they didn't know what do to. For the first time ever, they didn't know if there was anything they could do.

For the first time ever, the Hero felt completely helpless.

And the worst part, by far, was the fact they liked it.

"Awwwwh, drawing a blank? Can't find a single retort in that pretty lil head of yours?"

The Villain didn't quite mean to let that one slip out, but seeing the Hero's reaction, they didn't regret it for a second.

The Villain watched their helpless squirms ramp up again, the Hero breaking eye contact. As if they were trying to hide.

The Villain leaned in a little more, slowly approaching their captive. They didn't know if continuing was the best idea, but the Hero was so, so unbelievably precious. The Villain couldn't get enough of seeing the Hero like this, and against rationality, wanted more. Wanted more of the Hero's squirms, more of their fruitless attempts to retort, more of the feeling of being in control of them.

"Struggling isn't gonna get you anywhere, sweetheart." They continued. "And something tells me you know that, don't you~?"

Hero's suppressed emotions became harder and harder to keep down. They'd never felt anything like this before, but as they thought about it, as the Villain's teasing pushed them more and more, it became increasingly apparent that they had felt like this before.

This was just the first time they couldn't convince themself they didn't.

"There's no snappy comeback or well-timed attack to save you this time, honey~" The Villain continued. "And you're absolutely adorable, vulnerable like this~"

The Hero's thoughts were absolutely flooding.

They hated this. They hated the fact they liked this. Not because they hated the idea, but because they thought they couldn't have it.

They couldn't imagine what would happen if something like this got out anywhere, especially not the Agency. They knew this could easily shatter their reputation as a hero if it got out. They wanted to hide from it. They hated that they couldn't.

But it felt so, so good.

They so badly wanted to give in. They always had.

...but... this time, they had an excuse to end up in this situation. They were kidnapped. They'd be missing for a few days anyways. Nothing that happened here would be known anywhere else.

M-Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give in to it...?

"Hey, eyes on me, honey." The Villain teased, gently grabbing the Hero's chin and tilting their head to look at them.

The view they were met with was absolutely perfect.

The Hero had a bright red blush on their face. They liked it! They liked it!! The Villain couldn't resist but let out the squeal they'd been holding in. The Hero was precious beyond description to them. They'd been waiting for this- wishing for this- for so, so very long. They were bursting with excitement upon getting a hold of the Hero at all, and the way they looked in the ropes, their precious squirms, their cocky attitude finally dropping... this entire experience had been like a dream to them, and it got better in the only way it somehow could.

The Villain's view- the Hero helpless, their defiant look collapsed, their beautiful eyes not showing anger but instead almost pleading, the Villain lifting their chin to look at them to be met with a telltale sign that they were enjoying this all- it felt like a dream. They couldn't believe it.

After a pause to fully comprehend what was happening, the Villain finally gathered enough composure to say something.

"...You're mine~"

And the Villain had never in their life heard anything more wonderful than the quiet, embarrassed, precious whisper that came out of the Hero's mouth in response...

"...I'm y-yours."

[k-zu]

REALLY LOVE YOUR DRAGON LI FIC ITS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIABSUAVHA <33

is it okay if I request dragon zhongli headcanons with gn reader?

maybe you can add one where he’s in full dragon form and reader helping him out with grooming like brushing and untangling some matted parts of his hair or using products to care for his scales or horns? :o

(with or without reader is fine with me :])

feel free to decline this! Have an awesome week ⭐️💗

request and you shall be granted.

( i've never written anything in headcanon format, hope this is alright ! )

"after stepping down from his title as an archon, zhongli still isn't able to live a truly mortal life, for he still is a half-dragon even without the mighty exuvia. as his companion though, he's more than grateful that you're there to help him through it."

getting used to maintaining a fully human form becomes harder without his gnosis, that's why he lets some of his dragon-like features out while hiding them under his clothes. like his shining arms and hands under his suit and gloves.

he has the sharpest instincts, when he feels you're in danger he's quick to manifest geo shields around you, he might even get in a protective stance in front of you. like a dragon protecting its treasure.

after long days of dealing with his restless child boss, he comes home and, if he's comfortable enough with you, instantly lets his half-dragon form out. opting for rest under the sun or nuzzled in bed with you.

half-dragon zhongli is extremely sensitive to touch, perhaps becomes a bit more bold when seeking for your attention too. he'll become more touchy and will try to kiss you more often. if you do even as much as to reciprocate a kiss and put your hands on him, it's over for you. he's not letting go.

half-dragon zhongli is also extremely sensitive to how you're feeling, if he senses tiredness, fatigue or anything that might get you in a bad mood or sick, he will stand by your side and offer to help you with whatever he can to make you feel more comfortable. ( i have a drabble on this where reader falls sick ehe all fluff ! )

"my, but you're shivering! would you like me to get you some blankets, my dear? oh? just hug you?" he giggles, "you don't need to ask twice, my love."

half-dragon zhongli who purrs without noticing !!!

half-dragon zhongli whose golden markings shine in pulsating glows along the beat of your heart, they're on his arms and legs and perhaps even chest, where he likes to place his hand and watch as the light that represents your heart slips through the fingers covering it.

sometimes, he pretends to fall asleep on the couch so you can quietly join him for a bit, and after he's sure you've fallen asleep he cuddles you and kisses the back of your neck with such fondness.

now, full-dragon zhongli but a tiny version of the exuvia who acts a lot like a cat but is still able to understand you.

he lets you pet him and marvels at the little kisses you leave on his head. he also lets you help him untangle and take care of his fur, very softly at first fearing you might hurt him accidentally. he just stares at you attentively until you feel giddy enough to leave a kiss or two between your work, he'd close his eyes and smile in delight.

tiny cat-like dragon zhongli whose favorite place to nap on is your lap !

he can't afford to manifest the big exuvia form without his gnosis, specially not inside his mortal house. so he settles on a smaller form, perhaps the size of a small dog. he'd be always on top of you in some way, your shoulders, your head, or clinging to your pants until you pick him up.

maybe if you visit his adepti abode, he'd let you see the big dragon and then you'd understand all the legends and songs dedicated to his name.

perhaps if you meet each other after giving up his gnosis, he'd feel scared of telling you the truth, fearing you might think differently of him if you find out he used to be the geo archon and is now just a non-human funeral consultant.

i can imagine him wishing to really touch you, without gloves, to feel your warmth and the softness of your skin, to love every part of you without restrictions. ( i just thought of a very cute drabble idea for this ( ˙▿˙ ) )

half-dragon zhongli would be the most difficult person to get things done with, you need to get out of bed to work? are you sure?

"dearest, you're so warm…" "i hear you, but we really need to get up."

dragon zhongli who, in his big form, likes to walk/fly around just for you to admire him and compliment him.

dragon zhongli who makes a contract with himself to protect you from any and all harm for as long as he lives ( and has the ability to remember ).

a/n:

i am more than soft for dragon zhongli, the brainrot is so strong UWAAAA

no beta we die.

[blueaetherr]

can you please do like any sort of jude fluff? :)<3

masterpiece

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!artist!reader [she/her]

warning(s): potentially wrong art terminology

summary: the one where they spend the afternoon painting

A free day on a lone Saturday was spent by Y/N and Jude, together. They allowed themselves to do what they wanted—what Y/N wanted to do, what Jude wanted to do. The theme between the two remained the same, consistent: to be cosy, to relax and to have some overall fun and thrill before returning to their jobs the following day. And so, sometime during the late afternoon, the pair found themselves situating one another in Y/N's art room to paint.

The plan was simple: using pictures of their choice, Y/N would paint Jude, and Jude would paint Y/N. The activity would be unserious, naturally; they were painting for the fun and thrill of it all, that's what they wanted to do on their free day, of course. But knowing them, there would probably still be an element of competition within everything. 

"I feel like a kid doing this," Jude exclaimed as he sat by his station. Letting out a small exhale, he smiled as his hands ran over his canvas. "It's been so long since I've painted something. This is actually going to be so much fun, you know."

Looking away from her brushes, Y/N had to scoff a laugh. She shook her head. "I can tell you're already enjoying yourself." 

Even if Jude hadn't voiced his quite obvious excitement to paint, she would've known either way. Jude made sure he was looking and acting the part: wearing overalls (with one of the straps undone) and a painting hat, scrabbling around the room to retrieve all the needed equipment, adjusting his easel every now and then, asking Y/N for some tips beforehand. It was a unique sight to see; he wasn't exactly trying to hide this enthusiasm of his.

And while it was something to laugh at maybe, to witness Jude in such a different environment—surrounded by so much simple excitement and enthusiasm—it was also something for Y/N to smile at kindly. Watching Jude in so much delight and wonder, his focus wide and whole on this one activity that he probably wouldn't do until later days, it was outwardly cute. She let him experience all of this excitement, all of this delight and without interruption to get out of it.

"I mean it's not something we get to do every day, you know." Whenever Y/N was working on an art project, Jude was never really allowed in her art room. Whenever he found himself peaking through the door window, he always saw her lost in thought and wonder, or in excess creativity that she wouldn't put down her brush until later hours– there was no in-between. For the most part, it was strictly off-limits and he respected that. When it was all said and done, Y/N always came through with yet another masterpiece in her hands.

"And now that we can..." Jude passed a narrow brush on his canvas simply to test the colour. Witnessing the faint red on the sheet, he hummed. He'd yet to start and he already felt like he was having the time of his life, feeling himself. "Imma take advantage of that."

As time eased into the afternoon, they did too. In all that they were doing, it was simply fun and thrilling and unserious. That fun when Jude was painting as he wanted to, whenever they would dash a bit of paint here and there. That thrill when the vibes in the room remained immaculate throughout, a healthy mix of painting, conversation and mediocre singing. That unseriousness when two got up for a break, using the short intermission for a dance break, a bit of laughter and toe-stepping adding to the mood.

There was an element of surprise to all of this. Considering that they were sitting adjacent to one another, Y/N couldn't see his work and Jude couldn't her work. And that only made Jude even more curious about Y/N's work, seeing as she was the qualified artist in the room. He would find himself peaking past his easel, observing Y/N with interest and intent; trying to imitate her hand movements, observing the brushes she chose to use 'cause knowing that even without looking at what she was painting, he knew that it would be amazing.

Then her eyes would fly up and meet his. And she would smile and laugh a bit, watching Jude hide and cave himself behind his easel, trying to make it appear like he was focusing on his own work instead of her. But his face would contort; his cheeks caving and shyly blushing, so much that he could no longer hide his previous actions and current feelings regarding Y/N.

"It's so quiet," Jude commented, laughing a bit. There was only music softly playing in the background. Beyond that, the art room felt quite hollow. He dipped his paintbrush into his water jug, swirling it around. He continued, watching the yellowish water turn faintly green. "I feel like we should ask each other questions."

Y/N raised a brow. "Ask each other questions?"

"Yeah, like, I don't know," Jude exhaled, glancing away from his canvas, "to help with inspirations and dat. In fact, I'll ask the first one." His enthusiasm, once again, was so bright and glowing that Y/N couldn't hold back a kind giggle. "What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think about me?"

"What do I think about Jude?" She thought for a second. Not because she didn't know what to say about him—there was a lot to say about him, a lot of things that Y/N would love to voice. Instead, she thought it all over to bring up his best attributes. 

"When I think about you, Jude, I think of someone who's kind, smart, supportive of me—in everything I do, really—has a great personality. There's a lot to who you are, and I'm sure that I could keep going, but Imma keep it short. Also I like the colour blue and white on you," Y/N nodded to herself, confirming her thoughts with an encouraging smile, "They suit you well."

"Oh. Thank you." And there it was all over again, his cheeks caving in and softly blushing. The way she chose to speak about him, he appreciated it. Taking a moment off from working on her artwork, focusing on him as a person rather than as a football player; her words were genuine and soothing to hear.

"And me?" Her eyes returned to her canvas, "What's so special about me?"

Jude shook his head, sighing. Was that something he even needed to think about? 

"Well, let's put the obvious out of the way. You're talented and creative and inventive with like all your art projects, and all in your own respects. That's all you, and no one can take that away from you. But you're also this really cool, really amazing person—one of the best that I've ever had. I mean that's why I asked you to be my girlfriend, you know; so amazing, so cool that I can't keep you as just a friend. That wouldn't be enough for me." Using the end of his paintbrush, he pointed to the left side of his chest. His heart. "You got me right here."

Y/N had to break away from her artwork, glancing at Jude with eyes whole and surprised. Not that she didn't know how Jude felt about her. Always did he let her know with the simple things. The texts whenever he left for training or a match, the cute notes he left on the fridge, on any mirror; he was old-fashioned in that sense, always setting a high standard for himself when it came to his partner. 

She'd never heard Jude articulate himself in a way that was so sophisticated yet easy to understand. He spoke with such ease, his eyes remaining on his canvas that was, well, her. That she, Y/N, was cool and amazing. That as a friend some time ago, she was so cool and amazing that she had Jude feeling her beyond friendship. His words meant to adore and admire her, and that's exactly how she felt; adored and admired. 

After some time when the paint splashing was over, when the dance breaks came to an end, when the light banter between them came to an end, it was finally time to take a look at each other's artwork.

Arms folded, Jude looked between the two easels, which were now standing next to each other rather than away. "I feel like we should look at yours first. I mean we already know that it's going to be better. I'll get too much confidence if I show mine first before you 'cause I know you'll hype me up. We need to get the best out of the way."

She turned her glance to him, laughing. Jude managed to keep the unserious mood alive with paint dots still scattered across his face, predominantly along his cheeks. "Whatever you say," Y/N walked up to her easel, "Presenting, well, you."

Pulling over the paper covering her work, Y/N revealed her painting and, of course, as Jude rightfully predicted, it was wonderful. He was drawn to look delightful and divine, painted completely with blue and white yet still replicating the picture she chose. She managed to complement his features in every possible way, elevating his appearance with her contrasting and shading. He had no words, really. Jude knew that other artists would have more sophisticated and elegant words to say about it. In his eyes, it was simply art.

"What did I tell you? I love it, Y/N," he exclaimed as he brought her into a hug, kissing her cheek. "We gotta get a copy of this. Imma make sure you get commissioned for this." 

She squeezed his shoulder. "You know you don't have to." Seeing as Jude was always so open to posting her art projects on his socials on his own will, it was a given that she would get more exposure as an artist. Of course, she appreciated his actions wholeheartedly. But there were times when she wanted to rely on herself and gain her own fans than retrieving some from Jude.

"Well, I want to," he said, taking another picture of her artwork. After placing his phone away, he rubbed his hands together. "All right. You ready to see mine?"

Chuckling a bit, she motioned to his covered artwork. "Let me see this masterpiece of yours."

Removing the cover, she was soon taken aback. Given that Jude wasn't a professional in the field of art, his painting was simplistic and murky, a bit of pencil used for guidelines. Still, she could see what he was going for. He had drawn her but with all the words and he'd associated her with and more surrounding the painting. cool, amazing, creative, talented, inventive, wonderful, fun, pretty, and more. And at the bottom there was BEAUTIFUL, bigger and bolder than any other word. 

"Again, I know it's not as good as yours but it's something, right? I made sure to capture, or at least tried to capture all your best features. Then, of course, you do this thing where your art holds a lot of meaning and dat. I haven't exactly mastered that aspect just yet, so I went with a literal approach," he explained, gesturing to his artwork. "See? You're cool, amazing, creative, talented, inventive, pretty and so on. The placement of the words is kinda random and all but there was one that stuck out to me. All of these make you this: beautiful. Get it?" His smile grew wide, pride washing over him. "'Cause it's in bold and all the words point towards it—"

"Yes, Jude. I get it," she let out a small laugh, wiping away a stray tear. "I thought I was professional with this stuff."

Jude scoffed, motioning to his partner. "You see? There you go hyping me up. You already won even before you showed me yours." Once again, he pulled her into a hug, one filled with comfort and a few small giggles. Pulling away, he kept an arm around her shoulder. Together, they turned towards their artworks that, essentially, were them. Soon, a smile broke out on his face. "I think we did a good job, didn't we?"

Y/N hummed softly, leaning into Jude. "Yeah, we did."

[nights-legacy]

Hello!! Imagine that fem reader is Edgeshot's daughter, but no one knows about it, because he wanted a good childhood for her without paparazzi and too much attention. Now reader in UA and dating with Bakugo and she wants to introduce him to her dad. Love you🥰

Masterlist MHA Masterlist #2

Who's Daughter? - Bakugou x Reader

2045 words

Warnings: none

+ You are the daughter of Edgeshot and girlfriend to Bakugou Katsuki. You had been dating for a while, and your parents want to finally meet him. The problem is that noone knows you are the daughter of Edgeshot, so Bakugou is in for a surprise.

Quirk- Light Ribbon Whips (Mother has a light quirk)

Y/N's POV

It was a quiet evening at UA. I was scrolling through Facebook while Bakugou was asleep on my chest. I was gently running my fingers through his blonde spikes. He hummed in delight in his sleep. The domesticity of the situation was making my heart flutter.

We have been dating for a while. He had asked me out not long after we moved into the dorms and it was bliss. I was apprehensive at first due to how he was but he convinced me to let him prove himself. He never did anything halfway.

"Cuteness..." I muttered as I brushed the hair from his forehead. My phone softly ringing pulled me out of my stuper. "Hello?"

"Hi there, my Little Whip."

"His Dad." I whispered.

"Something wrong?" His voice became alert.

"Nope. Bakugou is just asleep." I said. My parents knew Bakugou and I spent time in each other's room. They trusted me and didn't tell Aizawa either.

"Oh, alright. That's good." He relaxed. "Actually, he's part of the reason I called."

"Oh really?" I looked down at the boy. I began to run my free hand through his hair again.

"Yes. Your mother and I would like to finally meet him. He makes you so happy and that makes us happy. We don't want to rush anything so when he's ready, we're ready. Just let us know."

"Alright. Wow." I chuckled softly. I stilled when Bakugou shifted. "I'll ask him. But don't go all big tough dad on him Okay. I'm pretty sure he'll just blow up on you."

"Oh, I know. I've met the young man out on the field. I'm more curious to see his reaction when he realizes who your dad is."

"That'll be something." I chuckled softly. "What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh, that was for your mother. Kei! Your turn."

"Thank you." I heard the phone being passed. "Hi Honey."

"Hi mom."

"I just wanted to let you know that I will be leaving in two days for England for work. I'll be gone for around two days."

"Oh okay. Thanks for letting me know. I don't want to call you while you're sleeping, Mama Bear."

"Oh you!" She laughed. "I'm not that grumpy waking up."

"Yes you are!" I heard dad in the background. I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't laugh out loud.

"Alright, alright." She huffed. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight you guys." I hung up and plugged my phone in. I used my whip to hit the light switch and settled in myself.

~

It wasn't until lunch the next day that I brought it up with Bakugou. I waited for him to get to the table while trying to think of how to ask him. About halfway through lunch I just decided to ask him outright.

"Hey Bakugou?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at me from where he was leant over his bowl.

"How would you like to meet my parents?" I asked quickly. He choked suddenly, hitting his chest to help.

"Oooo!" Kaminari chimed.

"Shut it spark plug." He glared at the boy with warning sparks before turning back to me. "What?"

"My parents want to meet you. There's no rush of when. Just wherever you're ready."

"Oh." He looked away. He became a little red in the face. I gnawed at my lip, nervous. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course. Whenever you're ready." I assured him. He nodded. I looked down and I went back to gnawing my lip.

"Hey." I felt his thumb press against my lip. I stopped and looked up at him. "Don't do that. It'll be alright."

"Okay." He got up, gave me a peck, and left the table. I shared a look with Kiri and he gave me a smile.

"It'll be okay like he said. It's Bakugou, this is new to him."

"You're right." I nodded before looking in the direction Bakugou went off.

"Since when has Kacchan been so soft?" A giggle forced its way out as that quickly became the topic of the table.

~

It was a few days before Bakugou came to me with an answer. He was quiet for those few days. Unusually quiet. He still spent time with me but he was noticeably distracted. I was starting to get discouraged when he showed up at my room.

"Baby?" I looked up to see him leaving against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching me with a sorry look on his face.

"Hey." I smiled up at him. I was sitting on the edge of my bed with a book in my lap. He gave me a small smile before pushing off the frame.

"First of all, I would like to apologize." He sat on his knees in front of me. "I've been really distant lately. This just threw me off guard. You know that all this sappy relationship stuff is new to me."

"Yeah. I know." I reached up and brushed his cheek. "I knew this would be a bit jarring. But I knew you could handle it."

"Yeah. Of course I can." He smirked. I rolled my eyes. "But on a serious note. I would like to meet your parents."

"Really?" My eyes widened. He nodded. "Awesome. I promise they'll be on their best behavior. As long as you are on your best behavior too."

"Huh!" Before I could blink, I was tackled back onto my bed. "I'm always on my best behavior." He yelled.

"Bakugou!" I laughed. "Maybe we should revisit your definition of 'best'." I poked him in the chest. He glared at me before huffing. He plopped down next to me. "So when were you thinking?"

"This weekend, maybe?" He looked at me.

"Okay. I'll call my parents."

~

"Okay. There's no need to be nervous. My parents are really cool and laid back." I ran my fingers through his hair. He just watched me. He was dressed normally. Black jeans with a simple long sleeve orange shirt.

"I'm not nervous, babe. I think I can handle your parents." He pushed my hand away. I bit down a smirk and he must have taken it as a nervous bite. He brushed his thumb across my lip. "It'll be alright."

"I know." I kissed him softly. He cupped the back of head, deepening the kiss. I pulled away reluctantly. I don't think it would be nice for my parents to find us making out on the doorstep. "Come on. Oh, and don't be too surprised, okay?"

"Surprised? What are you talking about, women?" I just chuckled, pulling him towards the door. I could feel his glare on the back of my head.

"Mom! Dad! We're here!"

"Finally!" Dad exclaimed.

"Shinya!" I heard mom scold followed by a whack and a grunt. I chuckled. We kicked off our shoes at the door and I heard a small popping. I glanced at Bakugou's hand and saw a Spark before he clenched it into a fist.

"Not nervous, huh?" I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Shut up." He grumbled. I grabbed his hand, kissed it, and led him through the living room to the dining room. I could see the dining room table set up before my mother stepped into the room.

"Hello! It is so nice to finally meet you, Bakugou. I'm Y/N's mother, Nissa Kamihara." She held out her hand to him. I could see him grasp her hand gently before shaking it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too." I could hear the very small shake to his voice.

"Shin. Come on in here!"

"Coming!" Out of the kitchen, my dad appeared. His normal jagged, high hair was in a low ponytail that was draped over his shoulder. He was wiping his hands off with a dish towel. "Welcome Mr. Bakugou." He held out his and they shared a firm handshake. I could see a flash of recognition in Bakugou's eyes and held back a chuckle.

"Hello sir." Bakugou nodded. After they let go, Dad pulled me into his side.

"We've missed you, kid." He hugged me tight and kissed my head. He let me go and I went to hug mom.

"Wait... do I know you?" The confusion on Bakugou's face was amusing. I went and stood next to him as he looked at Dad. He looked at me next. "Babe, I swear that I..."

"Ha ha." I started laughing and buried my head in his shoulder. I could hear my Mom giggling too.

"Hey! What?!" He snapped. I could tell he was irritated but only slightly. He hit my hip to get my attention.

"You actually do know me, Mr. Bakugou." I could see the confusion and irritation grow.

"Just tell him, Dad. Before he blows a fuse." Said boy gave me a small side glare.

"Fine. Fine." Dad chuckled. He walked over to the closet he kept his hero suit in. He pulled out his mask, neck wrap, and shoulder guard. Bakugou's eyes squinted before widering in recognition.

"Edgeshot! Your father is Edgeshot?!" He turned to me.

"Yep."

"What? Why didn't you..." He trained off before turning back to dad. "I thought you didn't have a family." Dad smiled before turning to Mom and pulled her into his side.

"How about I explain over dinner?"

~

"So you see, I just want to protect them. From the media, from villains, everything that is involved with the hero life especially since we had Y/N so young."

"Damn." Bakugou leant back in his chair.

"Yeah. It's not logical for a hero to have a family so young but I wouldn't do it any different." He squeezed moms hand. "Now that Y/N is on her way to being a hero herself, I'm not as worried anymore."

"Are you going to let the world know that you have a family?"

"Possibly. In reality it's not any of the world's business." Bakugou nodded. His hand absentmindedly moved to my thigh in a tense grip. I could tell there was something on his mind. I reached up and ran my hand through his hair.

"Whatcha thinking about, Blasty?"

"Was it hard? Balancing the hero work and your personal life?" Dad sat silent for a minute.

"Yeah. It was. There were times where it was really hard and trying. Times where We didn't know if we could make it through. But it was all worth it in the end."

"Okay." I set my hand on top of his.

After that, the evening became lighter. Bakugou began to act like his normal self. I think he felt more comfortable after realizing he actually knew my Dad. Mom got a taste of the real Bakugou. The angry pomeranian and the soft Bakugou hours. I even heard my Dad and Bakugou having a one on one that I refused to eavesdrop on.

"See you later guys." I called as we left. We walked hand and hand down the sidewalk in a comfortable silence.

"You know, your quirk makes a lot more sense now." He suddenly said.

"Why's that?"

"I always thought that your quirk was similar in a way to Edgeshots in a way. So now it makes more sense."

"Surprise." I chuckled.

"I can't believe you tell me or I didn't figure it out."

"Well in your defense, I don't share a name with my dad for reasons. And I never made any indication of who he was."

"No you didn't!" He grabbed my sides and began to tickle me. I squealed and fought against him. He eventually stopped and just held me to him. He hooked his chin over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you thought."

"Nah." He turned me around. "I understand why you didn't. It's okay."

"Hmm." I smiled before reaching up and nuzzling my nose against his. I kissed him softly. "Kami's right. You have gotten soft." His face shifted in an instant. I laughed, knowing I stirred him up.

"Wha..." I quickly pushed away and ran.

"Race you back!"

"Oh! You little brat!" I heard the familiar popping of his quirk. "You know you can't beat me. No matter if you're a pro's daughter or not."

God, did I love my angry pomeranian.

Tag List: @lilparcheesie @dxnaii-rxse @iris-shihabi @l0vely-lee

[somethingblu3]

Thy Mercy | Father Anthony Bridge

Read on Ao3 here.

18+ minors dni.

Fandom: Casualty

Summary:

Father Anthony commands you to list out the rosary.

TW: Church Sex, Spanking, Candles Wax Play, Improper Use of a Rosary, Priest Kink, Author is not Christian, Forbidden Secret, Relationship,neil newbon - Freeform, Begging, Burns, Dom/sub, Dirty Talk, Bible Kink, No Beta, mouth spitting, Mutual Masturbation, cum, Paddle, Humiliation, lightly edited, Orgasm Delay/Denial.

Pairing: Father Anthony Bridge x female afab reader

Word Count: 1,844

Divider Credit: firefly-graphics.

Note:

I'm not Christian, but I did go to church when I was younger. It's been over a decade since I've used a rosary, so I'm not entirely sure if the beads are accurate.

“Say it,” Father Anthony ordered in the shadows. You both sat in the empty church. The only light came from the flicker of the oil candles that hung from the ceiling. You had never been in a Church alone, especially not on a cold, dark winter night like this. Your hands are sweaty as they trace over the familiar chunky beads. It was a gift given to you by your grandmother. You remember sitting at her vanity as she gifted you the beads. They were sacred, and you kept them secure under your pillow at night, not wanting to lose them, but you almost dropped them as you felt Father Anthony’s gaze lock on you in the shadows. He was watching, waiting for you to start.

He had warned you that if you stuttered or your voice faltered, he would spank you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Anthony's hands clutching the black paddle in his hands as he readied himself. Your breathing hitches as your sweaty hands clutch at the burgundy glass. Your mind goes blank, but you can feel Anthony’s hand ghost your sides, closing your eyes. You took a breath, trying to cleanse your dry lips. Anthony pushes his nails into your thighs, a sign for you to start.

“In the name of the Father, The Son, and of the Holy Spirit Amen” Your fingers move towards the first bead, feeling the contours of the Crucifix between them. He hadn’t even done anything yet, not even touched your skin. You could feel something against it, maybe his fingers or the brush of the silver of his belt as he grinded against you; it was hard to tell in the dark. It was scary not knowing what was coming next. He had blinded you before, but here you were in the Church surrounded by the darkness. You were both very evasive about your relationship. If anyone ever found out about this, Anthony would be fired and defrocked, not even that he would be ousted from the community.

He was more protective of that in the early days, but as your relationship developed, he found it harder and harder to let you go. You were his biggest sin. He couldn’t walk away from second to drinking. You lick your lips as they suddenly turn dry, and you hear him play with the silver of his belt. A warning. “Our father, who art in heaven…” He pulls back your black skirt, which he told you to wear for this evening’s service. Your breathing hitches as you press on, moving to the smaller beads. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” “Faster,” Anthony hisses as his belt drops to the ground, and you feel his hands grab you by your waist. “The Agony in the Garden…The Soc-Sco-ugring at the-” You pause as he slides inside you. As always, you are already wet and sticky. His hand teases your clit, preparing you, and you hear him groan in delight. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You could already hear his voice in your head.

You stutter, “At the-Fuck” You are so tight, but that doesn’t stop him. His breathing increases Anthony halts you trying to search for your voice as it escapes you, and you feel the ip of Anthony’s cock ghosting over your back and cum dripping down your legs; you're already so wet. Not that you are surprised. He waits for a moment and clicks his tongue. You can’t help but feel…disappointed. “The scourging at the pillar,” you finish confidently. Anthony nods. “Good girl,” he praises you as he inserts himself into you once again. “The crowning with thorns-” you hesitate as you feel your cheeks flush increase. “And the crucifixion.” “You missed one,” Anthony scolds as he removes himself from you and then takes you over his lap. “The carrying of the cross,” he tells you as his paddle is against your skin."I'm sorry, father." You cry. "Again. Say them again," He demands as the paddle rests inches away from your skin, a lingering threat. You take a shaky breath, clutching the bread, and then you start again, but your brain has already turned to mush. "In the name--" You swallow as you feel him consider if he should spank you or not, but he doesn't. You clear your throat as you start again, your fingers finding their way to the beads. "In the name of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen." His fingers glide against your skin.

You know he won't mark it yet, but you can't help but shiver under his grip. "Our father, who art in heaven." You continue as you move on to the next bead and then the next until you reach "The Agony in the Garden..." You pause, trembling the pad inches and inches away from your skin, and as he presses further, you fumble. "Fuck-i'm so sorry, father." You sob as his paddle spanks against your skin. "I'm so sorry," you tremble. "I thought I had trained you better than this," Anthony snarled You lower your eyes, focusing down on the wooden floor, feeling nothing but shame course through you as he spanks.

"Count. Count to four," He orders, his other hand rubbing your other cheek "One" Smack "Tw-ooh" Smack "Fuck-Thr-eee" He pauses but then adds another smack. "F-ffour" you finish He smacks again. "Good girl, now let's start again from the top."

You nod and carry on repeatedly, but then, this time, you stop at the crucifixion. You close your eyes, knowing what is coming next. You tried to prepare yourself, but there isn't another smack at your ass. Instead, Father Anthony pulls away for a moment, and then he finally starts once again. "I don't think this taught you much of a lesson, did it?" He asks with an arched brow You are too stunned to speak as you feel your ass clench from the stings. He's not going to start again, is he? Usually, he would give breaks in between or at least kiss and "So why don't we try again?" "Father, please-" He ignores you as he reaches over and grabs a candle from the holder. It drips onto your skin, and you hiss, chowing down on your cheek to bear the pain.

"Good girl," he tells you as he messages your head. He watches as your body jitters. The pain is unreal, the sensation of the hot wax. He throws down the paddle, tossing it onto the wooden floor as he grips the candle in his hand, the wax melting his skin. He inserts himself inside you once again. "Let's start from the crucifixion and see if you can finally finish." You nod, shivering from the heat. You feel like you are melting, but also, at the same time, you know that Father Anthony won't hurt you. That was against his moral code, but the pain thrill was still exciting.

"Okay," You gulp as he thrusts inside you. Your dry cum drips between your legs like the candle wax between his fingers. "Okay, okay," you whimper as you get used to his thrusts as they increase in speed, still feeling the tingle of the wax drip down your lower back. "In the name of the Father, The Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen...." Thrust "Our father, who art in heaven…" Thrust. Now, the room is filled with the sound of his skin smacking against yours. His other hand finds its way to your left waist, pulling you as close as humanly possible. Your moans were escapable now. If someone were to walk in right now, it would be clear as day what the two of you were up to, and that feeling made your heart race, and you could just about see your skin turn bright red under the glow of the candle.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. The Agony in the Garden…The Scourging at the-” "Go on," He commands "The scourging at the pillar, The crowning with thorns, and the--the" You can feel yourself approaching your final orgasm as it tricks down your legs, and you roll your head back. You feel Anthony's hand in your hair as he croons your neck to look at you. He pants and spits in your mouth, his chin covered in drool. He stops trapping your hand clutched with the beads firmly.

"Hold on-" He commands as he takes the warm beads from your hands. "Turn around and face me," He commands," and he does You shiver as you finally meet his gaze. He's tired but happy as a small smirk appears at the corner of his lips. Forecebilly he takes the rosary from your hands and shoves them inside your sticky pussy. "Father," You gasp as you feel the beads between your legs. He chuckles darkly "You are such a good girl," he tells you, stroking your hair. "You're doing the Lord's work," he mumbles the sensation. Of the beads rocking between your legs is something else. The small cross rubs against the end of your pussy, edging you even closer and closer without him even touching you. You watch him as he takes his dick in his hand, proud of himself as he watches you stutter and moan, grabbing onto one of the pews. "Let yourself go, love," he instructs as he quickens the pace of his hand on his dick.

You nod, and your eyes roll back, your breathing hitching. You spot him as cum dribbles down from the head of his cock onto his robes. Your hand fiddles for the beads, and you begin rolling them against yourself. God, it was shameful, especially with how much they meant to you, but you knew after this, they would be covered in your seed, in your wetness, and you would give it to him as a gift, perhaps as a birthday present, so that he would always. Be near you. You grin at that thought.

A subtle reminder. "Now, what comes after the crucifixion, my love?" He urges as he wipes his cum against his robes "The Resurrection," you pant. You knew that wasn't all of the stages, but for now, it was the most you could get through without faltering, and you felt proud of yourself as a smile plucked at his lips. Once you finish, you both orgasm against each other, his seed mixed with your wetness. He throws the candle stick into the trash and licks his finger with your mixed juices, but his robe is still a mess. You are too weak to speak, and then he catches you as you are about to collapse onto the floor. "I want to treasure this forever." He pants as he rushes towards you, shoving your hair behind your ear, and kisses your neck as your eyes drift close. "This is heaven...". You lower your head against his neck, and you catch your breath. This man will be the death of you.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

spice up your life

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 1k

warnings: none i don't think?? maybe a tiny bit of secondhand embarrassment. otherwise this is just fluff! but let me know if there's something i should tag pls.

a/n: i've had a beloved girl group stuck in my head all morning and this was my outlet for that. sorry not sorry for yet another jakey story. that's my baby and i love him. no proofreading whatsoever, just vibes!! any and all mistakes are mine, feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated ♡ xoxo

On this blessed weekend morning (afternoon, actually, but that’s not important) you’ve just finished your shower. You’re dressed in a tiny tank-top and a matching pair of panties, your hair wrapped in a towel while you sit on the bench at the end of your bed and rub lotion into your freshly shaved legs. The Spice Girls are blasting through your bluetooth speaker and you’re happily singing along without a care in the world.

“Say you can handle my love, are you for real?” you croon, wiggling in place of dancing until you’re done with the lotion. “I won’t be hasty,” you wail louder, “I’ll give you a try. If you really bug me then I'll say goodbye.”

You stand with a bounce, alerting the room at large that you’ll tell them what you want, what you really, really want. As you put away your lotion, you shimmy your chest and shake your hips. You even stop for an extended dance break.

“Slam your body down, and zig-a-zig ah! If you wanna be my lover,” you finish with a flourish, giggling.

The next song starts playing and you let out a gasp of delight, reaching for your hairbrush and using it as a microphone. You set yourself up in front of your mirror, using yourself as a makeshift audience and doing what you can remember from the choreography.

“Slam it to the left, if you're havin’ a good time! Shake it to the right, if ya know that you feel fine!”

You have a split second of thinking that you should probably calm down, since you just showered, and working up a sweat because you can’t help yourself from putting on a one-woman show would be very annoying. But… it’s the Spice Girls. It’s next to impossible to not dance and sing along. At some point, your now damp hair has fallen out of the towel, and instead of using your brush for its intended purpose, you continue singing into it. When you start getting almost too warm, you make yourself stop flailing around and actually brush your hair.

You pull it up into a messy bun on top of your head when you’re done and skip out of your room to the kitchen, taking your speaker with you. You’re feeling kinda hungry, so you go about fixing up a sandwich for yourself, still warbling away with whatever song that plays.

Since it’s early spring, the weather is still relatively cool out, so you’ve got your windows open to let in the fresh air and natural light. It never crossed your mind that perhaps your audience of one was actually an audience of two. However, when you’re in the middle of singing through a mouthful of your sandwich, you just so happen to glance out the window in your living room.

“All that joy can bring, this I swear—“ You freeze, eyes growing wide, cheeks bulging with food, and heat crawling up your neck when you lock eyes with the tenant across the courtyard of your apartment complex.

It’s just your luck it turns out to be the new guy—the cute, nerdy, beefy one. He’s equally wide-eyed behind his glasses, mouth open a little in surprise. You squeak and dart out of his line of vision, mortification consuming you as you lean against the wall and groan. What a fucking first impression to make. Prancing around in next to nothing and stuffing your face like a goddamn squirrel. Jesus.

Your music is still blaring, though, and you've kind of lost your groove, so you hastily scamper back across the kitchen to jam your thumb on the button to lower the volume. Even with the song continuing to play, it feels much too quiet now. You try to finish your sandwich and act normal and not like you were just caught parading around in your underwear. Very pointedly, you do not look out the window again. If you can't see him, then he can't see you. Seems logical.

Except… You sigh dreamily. Oh, man, he's so cute, and he looked even cuter with that dumb look on his face. You try to fight it for as long as you can (which is, to your shame, not long at all) but your gaze drifts back over to the apartment across the courtyard. You're not sure if it's excitement or dread that swirls in your stomach when you see he's still standing there. He waves, sending you a lopsided smile, and you find it impossible to prevent yourself from smiling back.

“Nice moves,” he calls out of his own open window.

“Thanks, I try my best,” you reply with a bashful laugh as you approach the windowsill.

“We should tango together sometime,” he offers, immediately flushing after.

You see his mouth move as he whispers tango? under his breath, an incredulous expression on his face as he shakes his head. You cover your growing grin with your hand.

He scratches at his jaw and shrugs. “Or, you know… any kind of dancing.”

“I just do whatever comes naturally,” you flirt, tilting your head coyly.

“Right, yeah, makes sense,” he agrees with a lot of nodding.

Good grief.

“If you came over,” you start, raising your eyebrows significantly, “I could show you.”

It looks like he short circuits for a second, standing perfectly still as he processes what you just said. He suddenly jerks back to life and points a finger at his chest.

“Jake.”

You laugh and mimic the gesture, saying your name in return. Jake grins as he repeats it, soft and pleased, like he's trying it out on his tongue.

“So, I’ll just…” He trails off and waves in the direction of your apartment with a question in his eyes.

You tell him your unit number, then bite your lip to tamp down on your smile. “See you soon, big guy.”

Jake giggles, high and nervous, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, see you soon,” he replies in a gruff tone.

You cover your mouth again to stifle your own giggles, wiggling your fingers in a wave. He starts backing away from his window, his shoulder knocking into the doorway because he isn't paying attention to where he's walking. With a salute that he appears to regret instantly, he hurriedly leaves, the slam of his door echoing across the courtyard.

Okay, so, maybe your day took a turn, and you might have to shower again anyway, but it's so worth it.

[deans-baby-momma]

Anonymously Yours

Will a wrong number lead to love? 

BOLD = wrong number's messages

Italics= Y/N's messages

A/N: Thanks to @kazsrm67 for being my beta for this story and also @chriszgirl92 who bullied me into letting her read it before it was posted, who actually found mistakes that had been overlooked. LOL

‘Hey girl! I had fun last night with you. Maybe we can do it again sometime.’

‘Wrong number.’

‘Girl, quit playing! It's me. Did you get so drunk you developed amnesia?’

‘DUDE! It's 6 am. I've been asleep all night. As I said before, wrong number!’

‘Oh come on darlin’. I know you didn't give me a fake number.’

Y/N's phone lights up her face as she reads the last message. This guy just wasn't giving up. 

‘Listen Romeo. Whoever you met last night either gave you a random number or you put it in your phone wrong. Sorry but I'm not her.”

‘I can't believe this. This never happens to me. Well, I'm sorry for waking you up. Have a good day.’

Y/N slams her phone down on the mattress and closes her eyes, willing for sleep to overtake her. But it never comes. She can't stop thinking about the poor schmuck at the other end of the conversation. 

She sighs as she re-opens her eyes and grabs her phone

‘I'm sorry for being such a bitch. It's early. I didn't sleep well and shouldn't have taken it out on you. I hope you find the girl who fooled you…..but seriously if she just gave you a random number, she probably wasn't all that into you.’

‘Yea. That's pretty obvious. But thanks for laying it out like that. And sorry for waking you up. Again.’

Y/N read the message and then threw the comforter off her body, sitting up and placing her feet on the cold concrete floor of her room. 

That's the thing about living in an underground monster-proof shelter….it's always cold! Especially in the deeper quarters, like the bedrooms and restrooms. 

But being in the business of keeping the world safe from what goes bump in the night, Y/N and the Winchester Brothers must adapt and overcome the inconvenience of living off the grid.

So, an old defunct Men of Letters safe house is Home Sweet Home for the martyrs.

After using the facilities and brushing her teeth, Y/N heads toward the kitchen area, her stomach growling for sustenance.

She and Sam had spent days researching and analyzing tomes, trying to gather lore on how to kill a Khiksaz, the newest threat to the population. So much so, that it has been close to 24 hours since she had eaten anything. 

She was starving!

The delightful aroma of coffee engaged  her senses as she neared the kitchen. Inhaling the caffeinated fragrance, she entered the room to get her fill. 

Dean, the oldest brother, stood at the stove flipping bacon. The sizzle of the meat met her ears and she hummed in bliss. 

Y/N loved Dean's cooking skills. He could turn the most mundane ingredients into a delectable, magnificent meal.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he says as turns to look at her. “Sleep well?”

Y/N sips the hot beverage, letting the liquid brew wake her more and warm her from the inside.

“I guess,” she answers as she takes a seat at the table. “No nightmares, so that's a plus I guess.”

Dean approaches the table with a plate of bacon and pancakes that were warming in the oven and sets it in front of her.

“Progress though, right?” 

That's the thing about Dean and Y/N; they share a connection of both suffering from nightmares. Dean’s of Hell and Y/N’s of witnessing her family get murdered by a rugaru while on the annual family camping trip.

The only thing that saved Y/N from the monster who stole her family was the fact that she had stepped out of the tent and wandered into the woods to find a spot to relieve her full bladder. She had watched from her hiding place behind a big oak as the giant beast tore her mother, her father and little brother to shreds. The guttural screams still haunted her all these years later!

“Yea, I guess so,” she admitted. “But I also feel like if I don’t dream about them, it means I’m forgetting them.”

“I know sweetheart,” Dean says from his side of the table as he pours a generous amount of molasses on his hotcakes. “But I’ve told you before. Just because you don’t dream about them doesn’t mean they’re not still in your thoughts; doesn’t mean you don’t love them or miss them anymore.”

“Yeah,” Y/N answers forlornly. “I know you’re right.”

She takes a bite of her own breakfast and moans obscenely at the burst of flavor. 

“So how was your night?” she asks, knowing Dean had left to search for a hook-up to take his mind off the monotony of research. “Did you find some willing girl to get your rocks off?”

That’s another thing about Dean and Y/N’s relationship-friendship; they were crass and blunt with one another. They were like two peas in a pod. And it all started when Dean came to Y/N for advice on what exactly women want in a hook-up.

FLASHBACK

“Y/N,” Dean says as he sits at the table where she had been scouring an old journal she’d found in the library. “You’re a female, right?”

The question catches Y/N off guard and she laughs. “Yes, Dean. Unless I’ve been cursed in the last 5 minutes, I am a female. I have a vagina and boobs.”

“Smart ass,” Dean says with a smile. “Can I ask you something though? Something that only another female might understand.”

“Sure, Dean. What is it?”

“What do women look for in a hook-up?” 

“I’m going to be blatantly honest with you here,” she says and continues once Dean nods. “Plain and simple. To get off. Someone who knows what to do with what the good lord gave him.  We don’t really care about size but if you don’t know how to use what you got, we have to do It ourselves. And while that gets the job done, it's not as fun. As the saying goes, ‘It's not topside of the boat; it's the motion of the ocean’.

“So, Mr. Winchester,” Y/N smirks as she places her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her palms. “Do you know how to use what you got?”

She smiles as she notices the blush creeping up his neck. Who knew Dean Winchester could get flustered so easily? 

Y/N would be lying if she said she'd never noticed how handsome Dean Winchester is. She has eyes with perfect vision, she can see the sex appeal. But she swore to herself that she would never be the fly caught in his web. 

Dean Winchester was a player and a philanderer. He didn't do romantic relationships. Something else they had in common.

Y/N found out very early in her adult life that her choice of profession didn't lead to having a partner who understood the need, the commitment to keeping others safe from attacks of the paranormal.

So, much like the oldest Winchester, she sought out one-night stands, a love-em-and-leave-em situation was what worked best. 

“Awww is Dean-o embarrassed? Well, tell me this then.  Canoe, yacht or cruise ship?”

Dean flips her off and pushes up out of his chair and rushes off down the hallway, Y/N's laughter following him.

END FLASHBACK

After breakfast was finished, with Sam popping in after his early morning run to mix up a smoothie Y/N and the Winchesters gathered in the library to research more about the Khiksaz.

About an hour and one less brother later, Y/N's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulls it out and notices it's the same number from earlier with another text.

‘You single? There's not some big burly man out for my head for waking you up this morning is there?

‘No worries Romeo. Single as a Pringle over here.’

‘That's good. You seem nice.’

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. This morning she had been bitchy and quite frankly rude to this stranger and he just called her nice.

Sam looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Sorry. Just read something funny on my phone.”

As soon as Sam was once again studying what he was reading, Y/N began texting her new friend.

‘Is that your way of asking to be friends?’

‘What if it is? What would your answer be?’

Y/N left him on Read as she contemplated his question.  Would it be so horrible to befriend this guy? She knows nothing about him and he knows nothing about her. It could remain anonymous and be something to get her through the boring task of research. 

‘It stays anonymous. You don't ask my name and I don't ask yours. We'll keep it casual unless one of us has a bad day. Then we'll help the other out. No pictures, no voice messages, no videos. Capichè?’

‘You sure do drive a hard bargain RG. But okay.’

‘RG?’

‘Yea. Regina George….you know the bitchy bitch from Mean Girls.’

‘Are you seriously calling me a bitch this early in the friendship?!’

‘NO!!! God no! You said it yourself this morning. You apologized for being a bitch. Sorry. I'll come up with another name for you.’ 

‘Oh. Haha. You got me. Okay, Regina or RG is fine.’

‘Good because I already gave you that moniker in my phone.’

The rest of the afternoon consisted of researching this new species of monster and texting Romeo, as he was now labeled in her phone.

Dean was once again absent from the library after he had brought in some sandwiches he had whipped up. 

As evening approaches, Sam and Y/N were still poring over the lore and taking notes. Dean walks Into the library with a whistle on his lips and his keys twirling around his finger.

“See ya later nerd,” he calls out as he heads up the stairs.

“Wrap it before you tap it,” Y/N yells.

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks.”

And then he was gone.  Off to find some floozy in a bar to make him forget the awful world they live in.

Y/N retired to her room around midnight, her eyes tired and her back aching from leaning over all day.

As she changes into her pajamas She hears her phone ding with a message.

‘You awake?’

‘No. I'm sleeping peacefully.  Ha! I just climbed into bed. What's going on?’

‘Eh. Nothing much. Just lonely.’

‘Lonely? You mean Romeo didn't go out and try to find another conquest?’

‘Not really in the mood. Just wanted to have a conversation that didn't lead to anything.’

‘Okay. So tell me about your day.’

Y/N laid in bed, reading texts about Romeo's job in pest control and how he hated that customers would call him in about their problems but when he eradicated the vermin there was no appreciation, no gratitude.

She tells him about her work as customer service and how she suffers the same fate. 

‘The adage “The Customer is Always right” is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit!’

‘I feel you there sister.’

The two of them keep texting back and forth throughout the night until Y/N hears Dean’s early morning return from wherever he’d been. She made a note to sanitize Baby’s backseat before their next trip.

She listens to his footfalls approaching and then continues past her room to reach his,  further down the hallway.

‘God this night sucks! I just want to fall into bed and sleep. Text tomorrow, bestie?’

‘Tomorrow Romeo.’

That night, Y/N’s sleep is plagued with nightmares. They consist of the anonymous person on the other side of the phone. As the night continues the images behind her eyelids morph into more pleasant ones. Her dream guy is tall, muscular with beautiful features and a complete sweetheart; a complete and adorable heartthrob.

She wakes the next morning with a smile on her lips and an urgent need to masterbate. She sends out a silent  thank you  to the girl who gave out the wrong number; before making her way to the bathroom.

A week later, Sam and Y/N finally had enough knowledge and data on the Khiksaz for the three of them to venture out to the small community of Sikeston, MO and take this monster on. 

With help from the immense amount of lorebooks and tomes in the library of the Bunker, they figured out that a Khiksaz was a phantasm from a tribes of Arabian descent that had been captured and stored for millennia in a handspun clay jar after the spirit ripped through the older members of the tribe and began to beseech the still infantile and juvenile members to allow it to lead them.

One of the oldest chiefs, a religious man, conjured up a binding spell that captured and trapped the Khiksaz creature into the urn for all eternity. Unfortunately, someone in Missouri had come across the container and, not knowing what it contained, unleashed the beast which   was causing chaos and devastation in the small town. 

Sam and Y/N had worked mercifully at creating a copy of the enchantment and found a similar vessel to once again apprehend the offending spirit.

It was a 9 hour drive that took Dean only 7 to accomplish. Once they were checked in and unpacked, the three of them set out to make sure they had what they needed to accomplish the job.

Well, Sam and Y/N did. Dean sulked and flipped through the television channels until he found an old John Wayne western to watch.

Y/N felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but she was too busy perusing the spell once again to check. 

After a few minutes, Dean huffed and turned the tv off and announced he was going out to find some fun in this one-horse town.

Y/N had had enough of his attitude for the last few days. He had been agitated and snippy at them both. 

“God damn Dean! We are here to get this Khiksaz not for you to get your dick wet in some strange pussy!”

“Don’t you fucking worry about where my dick is going!” Dean yells back. “I don’t need a cunt to get off. My hand works just fine. I just need a drink or twelve.”

“Asshole!” Y/N says, stepping up to the older Winchester and getting in his face.

“You’re insufferable! I’ll see you two when I see you.”

He steps toward the door, throws a middle finger sign over his shoulder and sings, “Don’t wait up.”

Y/N growls. She literally and audibly growls.

“What the hell is his problem?!” she asks, rhetorically.

“He’s Dean,” Sam tries to reason. “You know how he is.”

“Yea, he’s a giant asshole.”

Once the two of them get the spell and weapons, along with the container to hold the Khiksaz in, they decide to go find something to eat. 

While waiting on Sam to use the restroom, Y/N pulls her phone from her pocket to see a text from Romeo.

‘How you doin’?”

‘Friends fan huh? So maybe I should call you Joey. By the way, that is the lamest pickup line ever.’

‘I thought it was pretty good. In the 90s. It worked a few times.’

‘Yes I tried it.’

‘An no, I’m not hitting on you’ 

‘I don't know whether to be pleased or offended.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Never mind. So what are you doing?’

‘Getting ready to head out and get a bite to eat.’

‘Alone?’

‘Nope.  My brother is coming with.’

‘Oh. You have a brother? So do I.’

‘Cool. What are you doing? I thought we were keeping this anonymous?’

‘You're right. No deep seated questions about one another. Sorry.’

‘Feeling like a jerk. A co-worker of mine and I got into it and I said some things I didn’t mean and now I regret it.’

‘So go apologize.’

‘Yea. I probably need to. ‘

‘Go apologize Romeo. Or I’ll send my brother to kick your ass.’

‘You make your brother do all your dirty work?’

‘I don’t make him do anything. But anyway, he’s out of the bathroom now so I’ll catch you on the flip side.’

‘And go apologize.’

As they walked across the highway to the diner, Sam brought up the texting.

“You have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” Y/N answers sheepishly. “Just a friend….who might be a guy.”

She waits until after the waitress takes their order before delving into the whole story of how some random guy began texting her because he was given the wrong number by a girl.

“Ouch! That’s harsh.,” Sam says. “But what do you know about this guy? Is there a reason the girl gave him a fake number?”

Y/N shrugs as she takes a sip of water. “I dunno. Like, he seems nice. And we get along. But just through text. I don’t even know his real name. I called him Romeo in jest and it kind of just stuck.”

“You don’t even know his name?! Does he know yours?”

“No,” Y/N laughs at the ridiculousness of it. “He refers to me as Regina or RG.”

Sam looks at her confused so she explains. 

“Regina George from Mean Girls. I was kind of a bitch to him, like Regina is to everyone in the movie. I didn’t take offense to it. I thought it was quite hilarious.”

“Let me see your phone,” Sam says, holding his hand out for it.

Y/N watches Sam scroll through her contacts until he gets to ‘Romeo”. He opens the information tab and studies it. His lips pull into a quarter smile as he closes the phone and hands it back.

“What?”

“What, nothing? What was the smile for?”

“What smile? I’m just happy you made a friend outside Dean and I. I mean, you gotta be careful because of our line of work. But I like that you have someone else to talk to.”

“Oh.”

The waitress brings their food and the subject is dropped. Their attention and concentration goes back to the job at hand and they discuss how to lure the Khiksaz out and distract it while the incantation is said.

In the early morning hours, Y/N is awakened by Dean stumbling into the room, blitzed out of his mind. He staggers to the mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, opening it and downing it. 

Between the smell of booze and the aroma of some of the most fragrant perfume, Y/N can’t help but gag. Dean notices the involuntary movement and shakes his head.

He cautiously walks to the bed and sits down beside Y/N. 

“Are you here to gloat?” she whispers. “I really don’t want to hear about your sexcapades with some poor hometown girl.”

“Y/N, we’re friends right?” Dean says instead and it shocks her.

“Yes, Dean. We’re friends.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to call you an uptight cunt.”

“Um, Dean? You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. On the drive over to the bar. I called you an uptight cunt and a self-righteous prude and I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Y/N says, burrowing her nose into the pillow. “But please go shower and wash that stink off you before I puke!”

Dean chuckles. “Yes ma’am.”

Unfortunately the next day does not go to plan at all. Both Winchesters and Y/N are thrown around while fighting and trying to capture the Khiksaz. Sam ends up with a concussion but Y/N breaks a couple of ribs. 

With horrible dictation, Dean gets the spell read and the monster is once again bottled up and will make the trek back to Kansas to be stored away in the dungeon of the Bunker.

Y/N feels every curve and bump in the road of the 647 mile trip. Broken ribs are uncomfortable and painful when you're lying still but Dean insists on driving like a bat out of Hell. 

He is on a tangent about how the information they had to the Khiksaz wasn’t complete and they didn’t know it had powers and how it’s his fault for leaving the research up to the two of them.

Sam tries in vain to reason with his hard-headed brother. 

“We don’t always know everything about the monsters we go up against. This is just another instance!”

“Yea. Well-”

“Well, nothing! This hunt was no different than when we went up against that Wendigo or the rugaru that killed Travis! What?! Is it because Y/N got hurt? Is that why you're so pissed off?”

“We all got banged up; it's not just her,” Dean defended. “You have a concussion for Christ's sake!”

“And your brooding and griping isn't helping.  Let's just call it a win and move on. Please!” Y/N pleaded from the backseat. “And Dean? Slow the fuck down! You're killing me back here.”

Knowing that his erratic speeding and Baby's lack of sufficient suspension is probably agonizing with busted ribs, he took his foot off the gas.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he apologizes.  “I just want to get back to Bunker to rest and recuperate. I'll go slower.”

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful, other than when Sam tried to fall asleep and Dean blasted Metallica to keep his brother awake.

Once parked in the garage, Dean hurried to help Y/N sit up and get out of the car and hovered around her as she made her way to her room.

“You need anything, just holler okay?”

“Thanks Dean.”

As soon as he was out of the room and the door was closed, Y/N pulled her phone out.

‘I've had a shitty day at work. Tell me a joke.

There was no response for the longest time; so long Y/N began wondering if Romeo had actually blocked her.

‘Did you hear about the Italian chef that died?’

‘No. What happened?’

‘He pasta-way!’

‘OMG! They was corny as fuck!’

‘Forrest Gump’s email is 1forrest1.’

‘That one is no better. Lol. But they made me smile.  Thank you Romeo.’

‘You're welcome Regina. Wanna tell me about your day?’

‘Nah, that's okay. It was just another one dealing with ungrateful, unappreciative customers.’

‘How was yours?’

‘Honestly, about like yours. Customer called with a rodent nuisance and I took care of it. Customer never acknowledged it.’

‘People suck!’

‘Yes, they do.’

The phone was silent for a few minutes before it buzzed again with an incoming text.

‘I ordered a chicken  and an egg online. I'll let you know which comes first.’

‘Ya know, I'm starting to understand why that girl gave you the wrong number. You. Are. A. Dork!’

‘You asked for it missy! I am quite offended. I'm the farthest thing from a dork. I'm suave and charming for your information!’

‘And a dork. But you made me smile with your silly dad jokes. So thank you.’

‘Glad I could make you feel better. Our conversations make me happy.’

‘Same goes for me. But I'm getting pretty tired so I'm gonna try to get some shut eye. Good night Romeo. :*’

Y/N's eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She'd sent him a kiss face! A stranger! Someone she didn't really know. 

What if he took that the wrong way? They had agreed to be anonymous friends. FRIENDS, nothing more. So why did she send him that?

What did it mean?! Was she developing feelings for this mysterious man? 

She thought back to just a few nights ago, the erotically passionate dream she'd had with what she imagined this stranger to look like.

She reminisced of her dream Romeo kissing her breathless, worshiping her body as if it were a temple; of how they had fervidly made love into the early morning hours. He had brought her pleasure numerous times!

Oh fuck! She was falling for him.

‘Sweet dreams darlin’ :*’

Y/N laid awake for hours, contemplating on how to handle the knowledge that she was falling for the stranger. 

How was it possible to develop feelings for someone you've never met, someone you'd never laid eyes on. Hell, she didn't even know the sound of his voice.

Around dawn, she decided she would no longer exchange messages with him and as soon as her body was healed, she was going to go find some willing guy to fuck Romeo's memory away.

Of course, she was awakened by her phone alerting her that a text was waiting.

‘Good morning beautiful’

‘You're probably still asleep’

‘I just can't get you out of my head’

‘Maybe we should break the anonymous rule and meet?’

Y/N read each of the lines over and over, each time making her heart drop. She didn’t know what to do.

She began to think that maybe she should’ve just ignored and erased his first message; when she realized it was a complete stranger who had accidentally texted the wrong number. She shouldn't have engaged with him. Now she was in this predicament. Of course, this is how her life is, fucked up and confusing as hell!

Y/N silences her phone and rolls out of bed carefully. The motion takes her breath away as her broken ribs shift with the motion. She makes her way to the door and down the hallway toward the bathroom, only to be almost bowled over when Sam, dripping wet and shirtless, comes barreling out of the bathroom.

“Oof.”

“Oh god Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, profusely. “I didn’t expect you to be out of bed. Dean said he was going to bring you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet of him,” Y/N responded with a smile. “But that doesn’t negate my bladder issues.”

Sam laughed and stepped to the side. “Yea, I guess not. So, ummm…I guess I’ll come check on you later?”

“Okay,” she says as she closes the door to the communal bathroom and shuffles to the row of toilets. As she went to sit, she realized that the mundane task was hindered; she couldn’t bend without excruciating pain radiating from her thorax. 

Even though her bladder was yelling at her to be emptied, Y/N stood and studied the ancient throne. With a small shrug, she grabbed the roll of tissue and tore off a few squares of paper before pulling her leg out of one side of her sleep pants and straddling the seat.

After cleaning up-because peeing like a man isn’t as easy for a woman as you’d think- Y/N heads back to her room, where as Sam said, Dean was waiting with a tray of eggs, bacon and coffee.

“Oooh, nectar of the Gods,” Y/N says as she reaches for the hot beverage. “Thanks Dean!”

“You’re welcome. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. I can tell you that,” she answers. “I’m going to try to wrap them later.”

“I can help you do that,” Dean says as he watches her sit on the bed before sitting the tray of food on the table. “You probably can’t get it tight enough.”

“M'kay.”

A few hours later

“Dean, I swear to Chuck if you try to cop a feel, I’ll kick your ass!”

“Oh be quiet, Y/N/N. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before,” Dean teases. 

And he was right. On a couple occasions the eldest Winchester had been witness to Y/N’s top half of her body exposed; whether it’d be walking into the bathroom as she was exiting the shower or when she got wasted at that bar the three hunters visited and she flashed the whole crowd as she finished singing “Natural Woman” by Aretha Franklin; well butchered it would be a better word as she couldn’t hit a single good note in her inebriated state. 

But she was being ogled by a fellow patron and was feeling frisky so after placing the mic back on the stand, she flipped her shirt up and flashed the whole bar. Her bra covered the main parts but it had been a ragged one and didn’t hide much. 

So, yea Dean and Sam and half the community of Bumfuck, NM had seen her tits.

“I know,” she giggles and then groans as he wraps the gauze around her torso tightly. “Motherfuck! That hurts.”

“Cry baby,” Dean jokes. 

“Let me kick you in your balls and see how you feel,” Y/N threatens. 

“Hey now. If I can’t grope you, you aint groping me!” 

“You’re such a dork!” Y/N says and they both laugh.

“Okay, you’re all bandaged up now,” Dean says as he hands her her shirt. “Go on and get redressed.”

As soon as Dean leaves, Y/N feels her phone buzzing in her pocket.

‘Regina? Are you there?’

‘Did I scare you off?’

‘Could you please answer me?’

‘Please?’

Y/N pockets the device and heads back to her room. How is she going to answer him? Is she? 

She sits on her bed and stares at the phone as it begins vibrating again.

‘I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.’

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she answers.

‘I’m here. I’m fine. No you didn’t scare me off. You actually didn’t do anything. I did. We agreed to be friends and I went and let my feelings take control and didn’t even realize it until I sent you the emoji after my message.’

‘I know you aren’t interested in me. I know I’m just the consolation prize for the busty brunette or blonde, maybe even a redhead, that you were really hoping to talk to and text. I won’t hold it against you if you want to stop texting. No need to meet in person to tell me.’

Y/N reads over her message a couple times before hitting send and laying her phone down. It immediately starts ringing.

Romeo calling…..

Fuck!

‘I’m not answering you.’

The phone stops ringing and then a message comes through.

‘You have it all wrong, darlin’. You are not a consolation prize…not even close! I wanted to tell you, to say the words to you. But you won’t answer so I’ll just type them. I’ve fallen for you too.’

‘Don’t just say that to appease me. I’m a big girl. I can take rejection’

‘Baby, rejection is the last thing on my mind. Will you please answer the phone?’

Y/N reads Romeo’s last message a few times before she opens the chat box and responds.

‘No. But I will agree to meet you. Work is going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks and I won’t have much free time. So, how about two months from now we meet at a mutually agreed upon place and see where this goes?’

‘Deal.’

Y/N knew that in a couple months her ribs would be healed enough to not raise any questions or alert Romeo to the fact that she fights monsters for a living and not existing in a dead-end customer service job as she had alleged to.

The next few days, Sam and Dean went on a couple little salt-and-burns, leaving Y/N at the Bunker to continue healing.

Y/N and her mysterious Casanova texted continuously, getting to know one another better and just regaling one another with childhood memories and stories. 

It was nice; it was befitting for two strangers to become acquainted. Y/N still refused to actually speak to the man she had feelings for. The secrecy was thrilling to her and she preferred the voice he had in her now-nightly dreams.

To pop that bubble by finding out he had a high pitched, nasally voice would be most crushing.

Of course, she hadn't told Romeo her real past. He knew her parents had passed, but she claimed a car accident took them from her.

She felt terrible for lying to him but how do you tell someone that your parents were killed by a beast that isn't supposed to exist?

What Y/N doesn't know though is Romeo had lied to her about his past also.

When Sam and Dean returned from their latest hunt, neither one of them acknowledged Y/N or said a word.

Both Winchester stomped to their respective rooms and she heard one door slam right after the other did.

“What's gotten into them?” she wondered aloud before going back to reading the book she had found. It was an erotic novel.

Greg  cups her cheeks in his hands and he leans into her, closing the distance until their lips meet. His were soft and plump against her thin, chapped ones, but the lack of moisture on her lips was the last thing on her mind. He licked the dry vessels until she obliged opening them, inviting him in to taste her.

Greg’s, Romeo’s  moans filled her ears as he explored her mouth, his tongue wrestling with hers.

Layla Regina threw her arms over his shoulder and planted her hands against the back of his head, pulling her lover closer and deeper into herself. 

They stumble and almost fall but right themselves before hitting the bed, her on her back and his weight pushing her into the mattress. As his hands begin wandering her body, Regina silently begs for his hand on her most intimate area. As his palm slides down the skin of her abdomen, she wonders if her prayers were heard.

After becoming so enthralled with the book that she was even substituting her and Romeo’s nicknames into the plotline she missed the sound of Dean’s boots thudding down the corridor.

“What has you all dreamy-eyed and drooling?”

Y/N jumps in her seat and slams the novel shut, internally lamenting the fact that she didn't mark her place for later indulgence. 

She looks up to see Dean standing at the mouth of the hallway, a couple of beer bottles in his hand.

“Are you reading porn?” he asks with a laugh and a smirk.

“It's a romance novel, dumbass!”

“Eh, same thing,” Dean shrugs as he steps toward her and offers her one of the beers. “Romance guy woos the damsel right into his bed.”

“So, you know oh so much about this subject, I take it you've read a lot of romance novels?” Y/N snarks.

“You know as well as I do, life doesn't happen that way,” Dean says instead of answering her. “It's a lot more messier and a lot less loving.”

“Are you telling me you don't woo all those unwitting hookups you have? Not even just a little bit?”

“Oh no. I woo the hell out of them. Tell them exactly what they want to hear-” he takes a drink then continues. “Then I get what I'm after and leave before daylight. Easy in, easy out.”

“You are a real piece of work Dean,” Y/N says with a laugh. “Those poor women probably think they've finally found the man of their dreams and the poof! you're gone.”

“Oh like the schmucks you hook don't know you're a one and done?” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “I've heard them before, telling you all their hopes and dreams. I've heard them during, thinking you are ‘the best they ever had’- their words, by the way- and then you're usually in the back of Baby before Sam's even gone for his run.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N laughs, trying to hide the embarrassment of the fact Dean has heard some of her excursions. But that's what you get when you stay in cheap motel rooms with thin walls. “That was one time! And he was a clingy fucker. Always had to be touching me; my face, my hands, my hips. Hell he even tried to suck my toes. Eww!” she shivers at the memory. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

They both laugh and then it goes quiet as they drink. 

“So, um…” Dean begins. “Girls, ahem women, don't like that? The touching?”

“No. I mean yea we love an attentive man but sometimes it just takes away from the whole experience. Touch me all you want, run your hands all over me. Play with my tits, my clit…hell a little ass play ain't out of the cards but once he's inside me, I expect to get fucked! Not just filled and rubbed. Use that dick and make me feel it. Ya know? It's inside me for a reason.”

Dean shifts and adjusts his body in his chair and clears his throat. “Okay. Okay. I get that but let's change the subject.”

“Oh is Deanie-poo getting turned on?” Y/N jests. “You got a big ole boner under this table?”

“Shut up Y/N,” Dean mutters before  getting up and bolting back toward his room, his half-empty beer bottle still on the table.

Y/N shakes her head and laughs before opening her book to try to find the place she left off at.

Why is it that time crawls when you are looking forward to something? 

Y/N's ribs are slowly healing, thanks to the Winchesters generous and considerable care. They both made sure she was taking it easy and mending.

Sam always made her stretch and exercise what she could so her muscles wouldn't lock up and get sore while Dean kept her fed and hydrated and in good spirits with his complete goofy foolishness.

Y/N also noticed that as time went on and closer to her “date” with Romeo, Dean began to get happy and cheerful and just completely giddy. 

Not like him at all. She'd also noticed he went out a lot more than usual. Once the day was done, Dean would disappear with only the sounds of his beloved Impala leaving the compound behind.

Does he have a girlfriend? Has he met someone and is unofficially officially dating? Who is she? When will she and Sam get to meet her? Will they?

Y/N didn't put much more thought into Dean's disappearance because truth be told, she had her own secret. She was in deep with Romeo.

They had texted regularly after their proclamation and had even done a little sexting.

Nothing too graphic, just a few descriptive words here and there and talking about using and touching. But it was enough to make Y/N wet and yearn for the day she finally sets eyes on her Romeo.

‘What are you wearing, gorgeous?’

Y/N smiled as she read the words on the screen. 

‘Wouldn't you like to know.’ she teased.

‘I wouldn't have asked if I didn't.’

‘I'm sitting on my bed in a lace bustier with the matching thong. I'm so lonely Romeo.’

‘Is that an invitation? Because I can be there in no time at all.’

‘Haha. I’m only joking with you. I’m sitting here in an old pair of ratty sweats and a tee-shirt that had way too many stains to be presentable. My hair is up in a bun on top of my head but most of it has already fallen out and is just blowing in my face. I do not want you to see me like that at all.’

‘So when we meet in a few days, I still won’t get to see the real you? You’re going to be all dolled up and not the picture of perfection that you just described.’

‘Romeo, believe me….NO ONE wants to see this.’

‘I do. I am going to be honest with you. I am tired of going out and hooking up with people who don’t show their true selves. Who lie about who they are, what they do….give out random wrong numbers. I’m ready to be with a real person.’

‘Wow. That is honest. And truthfully, I feel the same.’

‘Maybe getting the wrong number was an omen. Someone up there believes we are both ready for something substantial. Shit, duty calls. I’ll text you soon :*’

As soon as Y/N read Romeo’s last message, Sam was knocking on her door.

“Come in,” she calls and the tall, long-haired man peeps around the open door.

“Just got off the phone with Jody. She needs help. I called Dean and he’s coming to pick me up and head to Sioux Falls. Wanted to let you know.”

“Okay. What’s Jody got?”

“Sounds like a cursed object wreaking havoc. A couple of bodies have come up….” Sam begins to explain and Y/N pushes herself off the bed and begins throwing items in a bag. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

“I’m coming with, I’m tired of sitting here by myself. Don’t worry,” she says as Sam gives her a pointed look. “I will stay away from the line of fire so to speak. I can hang with Claire and Alex or something.”

“Okay,” Sam answers, skeptically. “I don’t know if the girls are even home. You know, Claire has been hunting and Alex….well, she has her own friends now. You might be stuck at Jody’s by yourself so how’d that be different than staying here?”

“Sammy,” she says, patronizingly. “Jody’s has windows and sunshine and warmth and just please let me go?”

“Yea I guess I can see your point,” Sam answers and Y/N pumps her fist in the air before finishing packing. “By the way, Samuel, were you calling me old? When you said the girls might not even be there? Insinuating that they wouldn’t want to be saddled with the old, hurt woman?”

“Shut up, Y/N” Sam says with a smile. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

Dean didn’t seem surprised at all when Y/N threw her bag into the back seat of the Impala and climbed in. He just nodded and as soon as everyone was loaded, took off toward South Dakota.

“Y/N!” Sheriff Mills exclaims as we all exit Baby. “I didn't expect you to come. But am I glad you did.”

She hugs me and whispers in my ear, “I sure could use another female to talk to.”

“I'm here,” I whisper back and then pull away from her embrace. “I'm gonna crash on your couch while these two help you with your case.”

“Good. Good.” 

She turns to the Winchester and greets them with their own hugs. After the warm welcome, the three of them head toward the station to discuss the case.

Y/N pulls the erotic novel she's reading and heads to the park across the street and sits at a table.

Opening to the page she marked, she immerses herself back into the story. As she continued reading about the marriage of Greg and Layla, the fictional characters in the story, she began fantasizing about another wedding; one that featured herself and Romeo. 

She is brought back to the present when her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out to see a message from the man she can't seem to quit thinking about. She smiles as she reads the words, remembering how she felt as they vowed their lives to one another.

‘Another day, another rodent to take down.  Please tell me your day is better’

‘Not really. This seminar is taking forever.’

Before Romeo can respond, she hears Dean call her name and she turns to see him slide his phone into the front pocket of his jeans as he heads to the Impala.

“We're heading to Jody's,” he announces. “You coming?”

Y/N hurries to mark the place she thinks she left off at and shuts the book before jogging across the empty road to get to the Impala.

“Did you figure out what’s going on this time?”

“We think it’s Lamia,” Sam answers. “Bobby went up against one, years ago but he put it through a wood chipper so this is not the same one but it’s the same M.O. They look female and seduce men and then choke them and eat their hearts.”

“Ew. Well, where’re we going to find a woodchipper?”

“We’re not,” Dean says. “I’m going to pretend to be the victim and then stab it with a blessed  silver knife and burn it.”

“That’s risky,” Y/N states, worry about her friend filling her with dread.

“Well…” Dean says with a shrug and the conversation ends.

They pull into Jody’s driveway to see the Sheriff having a very animated conversation with her surrogate daughter, Claire.

They watch through the windshield as Jody hugs Claire and then the young blonde heads toward an old jalopy of a car and takes off.

“That girl is going to be the death of me,” Jody exclaims and her three guests join her. “Come on in guys. I’m making lasagna.”

That night, after helping Jody with the dishes, Y/n and the Sheriff join the Winchesters on the back deck of Jody’s modest ranch-style home.

The conversation flows but no one brings up the case at hand. 

Y/N notices Dean is distracted and keeps looking down at his lap and wonders if he is beginning to regret his role as the Lamia’s victim.

‘Just to let you know. Something’s come up and I gotta leave town for a few days so you might not hear from me for a while. Just know I will be back for our date. I’m looking forward to it.’

Y/N reads the message and smiles. She’s been looking forward to it also. 

‘Be safe and I’ll talk to you soon :*’

After the guys go up to bed, Jody and Y/N finish their glass of wine and stargaze.

“So what’s new with you?”

Y/N turns her head, looks at the older woman and smiles.

“I have a date.”

“Oooo, tell me more. Who is he? Does he know about….?” Jody begins badgering her with questions.

“I don’t know his name. I call him Romeo; it’s a joke between us. He, uh…..a few weeks ago, someone apparently gave him a fake number and he texted it but it wasn’t exactly fake. It was mine. We’ve been texting back and forth since and agreed to meet.”

“Oh,” Jody says, looking apprehensive.

“What is it?”

“How do you know this ain’t some demon or monster just trying to get to you and the boys Y/N? 

“I’ve thought about that, Jod. I’m wearing my silver rings and I’ll have a flask of holy water to spike his drink if need be,” Y/N explains. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”

“Sounds like,” Jody chuckles and then lightly punches Y/N in the shoulder. “You gotta tell me all about it, though. Even the juicy parts, especially the juicy parts. Damn, I ain’t got laid in forever. I need to find a man.”

They both laugh and then settle back down and stargaze some more before heading inside and going to bed. 

Dean Winchester almost becomes the Lamia’s fifth victim. If it hadn’t been for his fast thinking brother, Dean would’ve succumbed to the creature’s power and  be dead. 

Although he was alive, it was only barely. The Lamia had sucked so much blood from his body that he was unconscious for days.

Sam and Y/N had maneuvered him into the backseat of the Impala and raced back to the Bunker, hoping to find something to revive the oldest Winchester.

While they waited and researched, Y/N realized that she hadn’t heard from Romeo in almost a week. Their date was coming up and he had gone radio silent.

Sure he had told her that he had to leave town and wouldn’t be able to text her but couldn't he at least take a second to check in?

As soon as she could, Y/N sent him a message.

‘Haven't heard from you in a few days. Are you okay?’

And then, for the rest of the day, she kept an eye on her phone for a response.

The device stayed silent.

When Dean finally came around two days later, it was much to the relief of both Y/N and Sam. 

They sat at his bedside and regaled him with the story of how the Lamia was not who they thought it was but that Sam caught on pretty quickly and used the current from an old stove hookup to burn the creature before she could take Dean’s life.

Dean, as stubborn as he was, refused to stay in bed. He was adamant that he needed to get up and that he wasn’t wasting away in his room while there were other monsters still roaming the world. 

Sam and Y/N eventually gave up and left him to his own devices, going to their respective rooms to rest themselves. It was tiring trying to save a life then having that same someone argue that they hadn’t needed it.

Y/N was awakened by her phone buzzing with an incoming text. She opens the message thread and sees that Romeo has responded.

‘Sorry darlin’. I’ve been extremely busy. But I’m back in town and chomping at the bit for our date. Wanna move it up a few day?’

Y/N felt her face flush. She had been excited and eager and wishing that time would move faster as well.

‘A few days would mean tomorrow. You want to meet tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Tomorrow.’

Y/N woke up the next morning, nervous but excited. She was going to meet the man she had been messaging and getting to know through texts for the last three months. 

She joined the guys in the kitchen for breakfast and then headed back to her room to determine what she was going to wear.

What do you wear when meeting someone new? She knew him, she thought, but she had yet to see him face to face or even hear his voice.

What if he was not at all what she’d been picturing all this time? What if they meet and one (or both) of them weren’t completely different from what the other thought?

She chose her nicest pair of jeans; nicest meaning they weren't covered in monster blood and guts and other bodily fluids of the creatures she has murdered. 

Next, she chose a nice flowy camisole that wasn’t so low cut it showed much cleavage but low enough to show off her chest. Over that she wore a fitted leather jacket with the fancy schmancy silver buttons.

She slid the silver and turquoise necklace on with the matching silver ring, that way if Romeo went in for a hug instead of a handshake, she could still test if he is a werewolf or skinwalker and she had a vial of holy water in her purse to confirm he wasn’t a demon.

As she was finishing her makeup she heard Dean walking past her room, a whistle on his lips.

“Why is he in such a good mood?” she wondered out loud then went to look at her reflection once more.

By the time she got to the garage, the Impala was gone. Y/N was glad because she did not want to explain to Dean why she was borrowing one of the many cars there.

She chose an older model black Ford Mustang because it was one of the few inconspicuous cars they owned.  Heads wouldn't turn at the sight of it rolling down the street, unlike the Bel-Aires and the Fairlanes would.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself for a set of wheels that should be in a museum somewhere.

As she drove toward town she hummed a tune that had been stuck in her head for days. She'd finally realized it was ‘Hooked on A Feeling’. 

Y/N had no idea where she'd heard the song or even who sang it but it seemed appropriate for the situation. She was hooked on a feeling that she'd found her soulmate through a mistaken wrong number.

Once she got parked and walked toward the door of the restaurant she was to meet her Romeo, something caught her eye.

Down past the building was a sleek black car that she'd know anywhere. A 1967 Chevy Impala that if you looked closely had been rebuilt at least twice but was in pristine condition.

She turned her head to look through the window of the restaurant and her heart dropped. Dean was inside!

What was he doing here? Did Sam tell him about her rendezvous with Romeo and he was here to stop it? But then she realized that she hadn't told Sam about the meet-up.

Turning on her heel, she walked with purpose back to her car and slipped inside.

‘Something has come up and I can't make it. Sorry.’

Y/N raced back to the Bunker, parked the car and ran to her room.  She flopped on the bed and let the tears flow.

How dare he be there? Finally, when life was going her way, she was going to meet the man of her dreams, Dean fucking Winchester had to go and ruin it!

Her phone buzzed a couple of times in her pocket but she didn't check it until she was all cried out.

‘Hope everything is okay. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Are you ghosting me?! Really?’ 

She didn’t answer. Y/N wasn’t sure how to answer. She was no better than the woman who gave Romeo the wrong number to begin with. 

What was she supposed to do? Tell him that her “brothers” were actually just two men she lived with in an underground shelter that was warded to keep out supernatural beings that were out for their head? That her job consisted of continually being on some demonic radar?

Yea, he’d think she was nuts!

So instead, Y/N turned her phone off and laid in bed, wallowing in her own self-pity. She would never find a man to understand her lifestyle and she wasn’t going to give it up.

Fighting monsters and demons was her life! She was dedicated to making sure no one ever had to witness or live with the fact that their loved ones were murdered by things that shouldn’t even exist!

A few moments later, she heard the bunker door slam shut and could make out the boys’ voices but couldn't understand what they were saying. It got heated quickly though as she heard Dean yell, “You don’t fucking understand!”

Y/N got off her bed, wiped the tears from her face and left the bedroom, heading toward Sam and Dean.

“I just don’t understand it, man,” Dean says as she reaches the doorway to the library. Y/N stays just out of their sight; she can see them but the boys have yet to notice her presence.

“We get along so well. She’s funny but smart. She puts me in my place.”

“Maybe you should just man up and tell her your real name,” Sam suggests.

“No, no way. That opens up this whole world-” Dean says as he waves a hand around, motioning to the room and all the books on the supernatural they have. “She’s not like us. She wouldn’t understand. I just don’t know what happened?”

“I’m telling you Dean,” Sam says sternly but compassionately. “You may just be surprised.”

“No. I’m not telling Regina about this life.”

Y/N gasps and puts her hand over her mouth as it all comes clear. Romeo is Dean. Dean is Romeo. Holy shit! Wait, what? Like, what the actual fuck?! Dean is who she’s been chatting with via text for months now?

She thinks back to the first message and tries to remember if it came in as Dean since she has his contact information saved. But no, it was a number that came up, not a contact. She quietly runs back to her room and grabs her phone.

As soon as it turns on, she goes into her contacts and scrolls down to Romeo’s. She opens it and sees it is indeed a different number than she has saved for Dean….and his other phone….and his other, other phone.

So what is going on? 

She walks back toward the library and this time she makes herself known. 

“Oh hey Y/N.” Sam says with a smirk on his face.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Dean says, his tone melancholy before taking a drink of his beer.

“So, which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

Dean swallows the drink in his mouth and then slowly turns his head toward her. “What did you say?”

“Which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

“Um, how do you know that?”

Y/N walks closer to Dean and holds out her hand. “Hello Romeo. I’m Regina.”

Dean froze. The only thing that moved was his eyes, from her outstretched hand to Y/N’s face.

Time stood still as Y/N waited for Dean to catch up to what she had said. Suddenly his eyes widened and his lips opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“What?!” he finally found his voice and spoke.

“I’m Regina and I’m assuming you’re Romeo from what I’ve heard.”

“You are the amazingly hot chick I’ve been texting all this time?”

Y/N nods her head and Sam laughs from his spot across the table from his brother. “It’s about time! I was getting tired of watching you guys pine for one another, and not realizing it.”

“Shut up Sam,” Y/N and Dean both state.

Dean pushes his chair back and stands up, pulling a dinosaur of a phone from his pocket. It’s a frigging flip phone for Chuck’s sake!

“What the hell is that?” Y/N asks as she laughs and watches Dean flip the phone open and punch in numbers on the number pad. “How old is that phone?”

“It was Dad’s,” Sam explains as they both watch Dean work on getting into the phone and open up the text thread.  “I didn’t even know it was still usable but apparently my brother uses it to hook up.”

Y/N turns her attention back to Dean and watches as he looks at the screen, apparently re-reading all the messages.

“Well, fuck!” Dean says with a chuckle. He then turns to her and smiles. “Romeo at your service. And he is a dumbass. I didn’t recognize your number, but I do now.”

Sam stands and closes his laptop. “I’m going to go to my room and give you two some privacy.”

Neither Dean nor Y/N pays attention as the taller Winchester leaves the room, their eyes glued to one another’s, studying one another. No words were spoken for a few minutes.

“You’re Regina?”

“And you’re Romeo,” Y/N states with a nod. “I just have one question though. How the hell do you know who Regina George is? That's a chick flick if there ever was one!”

Dean shrugs and blushes. “Rachel McAdams is hot. What can I say?”

They both laugh but then Dean surges forward and wraps her up in his arms.

“But not as hot as my Regina. She can't hold a candle to you, baby.”

Y/N feels her heart squeeze around such a heartfelt compliment and smiles. “How idiotic are we?”

“Well sweetheart, this idiot has fallen for you.”

Y/N’s phone slips out of her hand and her arms wrap around Dean’s neck. “It’s a good thing I’ve fallen for you too then.”

They stand there, wrapped up in each other just taking it all in.

“Can I kiss you now?” Dean asked and Y/N nodded.

He slowly leans in, their eyes glued to one another's until at the very last second he glances down to her lips.

As soon as their lips touched, it was like everything became clear. The world had been dark and gray and now it was bursting with vivid color.

Dean licked against the seam of her lips, begging for entry and Y/N immediately granted him access.

When the need for air became necessary, they pulled apart but not before Dean placed his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Who knew love was right under my nose?”

“Well, here it is,” Y/N says as she tightens her hold on the older Winchester. “Who knew we belonged together? Now take me to bed!”

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70

[goodmorgan]

I've been on vacation for the past few days and I haven't been able to complete the newest chapter of my fic Perfect Strangers. It's kind of a long one so it'll take a while. So here is the beginning of the chapter to read until then!

Perfect Strangers: Intro to Chapter 6

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Word Count: 2.3K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. NSFW. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Infidelity, Mutual Masturbation, Penetration, Cowgirl, very much a WIP!!

A/N: Arthur is getting a little possessive...

You've never been on top before. None of your past lovers ever thought of letting you take charge, much less suggest you actually do it. So when Arthur asked if you could, it took you very much by surprise.

"Think you can handle it, missy? Hmm?" His eyes glimmer with a devilish spark as he invites you into his lap, his back leaned against the headboard of your bed. He squeezes the inside of your thigh in encouragement as you kneel by his flank.

"I think so." You hesitate, unsure if you'll be able to please him in a position you have no experience in. But then you look at his lustful eager eyes and you know you'll never be able to say no. And you have to admit, the idea of riding him has you pretty aroused yourself.

"Come on. I'll help ya."

His back temporarily leaves his rest as his hands reach the side of your waist, guiding you up as you climb over his legs, sitting atop his strong bulky thighs. Your core settles right in front of his fully hard cock, now slicked with his precum as it lies on his stomach, impatient for more after you've spent the last few minutes stroking it. You feel yourself twitching uncomfortably with titillation at the thought of taking it all in.

He removes one hand from you to catch the base of his member, tilting it up, ready for you to mount. "No need to rush, darling. Take your time." He means to put you at ease despite his obvious excitement as the mischief in his smile deepens, the tip of his tongue sneaking out, making you even more eager to start.

You settle your hands on top of his chest, pressing down for support as you raise your rear, angling your entrance above the tip of his cock as you kneel again. Arthur's hand tightens as you hover above him and soon enough you feel him prodding between your folds. You look at him to ask if you can go ahead.

"Easy does it, darling." His thumb caresses the side of your belly to relax you, but you feel his cock shift below you in ardent anticipation.

You move slightly downwards, enough to feel his member peek inside, stretching your opening to make your breath hitch. Arthur removes the hand from his cock, aiding you in your lowering motion with both hands on your hips, supporting your weight so you don't plunge too fast. Inch by inch you lower yourself as you take all of him inside you, your walls stretching in welcomed gratification. Both of you emit soft grunts of pleasure as Arthur's chest vibrates under your fidgety hands. You try to keep your eyes on each other as they flutter from the delightful feeling of carnal intimacy.

Your buttocks finally rest against his thighs when he finally fills you to the hilt. "Oh, fuck, missy." He grabs your ass greedily, as if to reward you for sheathing him inside you, his eyes darting to where your bodies meet. You peer down as you see your soft curls now tangled conspicuously with his. "Don't think I'll ever get used to you taking me like this."

You try to adjust to his large size as you coat him with the wetness he pried from you while fingering you earlier. You mirror his cheeky but sweet smile. "Maybe we just gotta practice a little more."

He chuckles as your hands move aimlessly all over his chest, warming him up before you move. His fingers lightly squeeze your behind to do the same. "I reckon we should. I doubt I'll ever get used to it though."

"Won't hurt to try." Your fingertips brush the area of his nipples. "I'm willing if you are."

"Yeah?" He raises a hand to your face to caress the side of your cheek with his thumb, biting down on his own lip. "Wanna show me how willing you are?"

He's ready to start when you are.

You rush your hands to the sides of his navel, moving your thumbs to pet the area below, twirling some of the black hairs you saw before. The teasing is enough to make the member inside you move and suddenly all you want to do is to countermove. "Seems I'm not the only one willing, am I?"

The first roll of your hips is barely visible but both of you feel it as his cock shifts gently against your walls, a satisfying taste of what's to come. He gets hungry for more as he lowers his hand to join the other, now blending his fingers with the curve of your hips. You take the chance to move them again, this time more noticeably as your folds almost touch the knuckles of your fingers, still skimming the sensitive skin of his groin.

It's the loud exhale he gives you that makes you start to lose your shyness, wanting to hear the sweet noises he makes for you over and over again, even if it's at the expense of your poise. You move your waist more forcefully, nudging yourself closer to his stomach, making you both puff out in delight. Each drag of your hips comes slow and gentle, but you can feel the gradual build of the fire in your core as you try to resist the urge to go too fast too soon.

"That's it, missy. You got it." His fingers press against your soft flesh as he assists your back-and-forth movements, the lechery of his eyes intensifying. "Keep going like that for me, angel."

His encouraging words only enflame your state of yearning, so you pick up the pace a little, moving your hands up to flatten them on his chest. As you move to the new angle, you fortuitously brush your clit against his pubic bone, the feeling so sublime you let out a whine of surprise and elation. You have no choice but to repeat it again, the result only more divine as you let your mouth hang.

"You like that, huh?" He grabs you more vigorously as you start to grind him wantonly.

You look into his eyes again, unsure if this is what he had planned when he asked you to be on top, wondering if he's enjoying it. "This ok?"

"Oh, it's perfect, missy." He lifts himself up to plant an affectionate kiss on your lips, his gaze even darker now. "Take what you need, darling."

His approval is all you need to move your hands even higher, clutching hungrily at his shoulders as your sensitive nub lies even flatter against his skin, the rubbing now so intense it keeps you from staying silent and cogent. You revel in your all-encompassing passion as you feel your walls fluttering against his own responsive arousal, filling you with the overwhelming sense that you are getting closer to the brink of endless wonder.

"Keep going, sweetheart. Almost there."

Arthur's sweet encouragement brings you back to a surprising state of awareness. You've only been intimate a few times, but they seem to have been enough for Arthur to learn when you're reaching your edge, aware of the effect his coaxing words have on you, prying a release from you every single time. Even when it's his choice of position, he still helps you rut yourself over him, making sure you chase your pleasure to completion first.

You must have slowed down your movements as he's compelled to spur you on. "Don't stop, missy. Not now. Keep going." His hands shove your weight forward to pick up the pace again. "Be my good girl and come around me." His wish is your command as you start to move unrestrained against him, your eyes closing shut as delectation devours you. "Come on. Need you to do this. Need to feel you, angel." His fingers bury themselves on your hips as he pushes you over the brink of deliverance. "Let me feel you feel good."

Your climax is heaven on earth as you arch back into the air, your head tilting back in victorious ecstasy as it hangs dreamily on cloud nine. In a thrilling change of pace, you soar up rather than sink your pleasure into the constriction of a worn-out mattress or the bumpy surface of a bale of hay. The only thing anchoring you is the firm build of Arthur between your thighs.

Your hands leave Arthur's shoulders to an aimless destination as you feel his own reach for your back, helping you ride your wave of pleasure, placing soft conciliatory kisses around your chest. Low soft grunts still leave your slack mouth when you slowly open your eyes, feeling your chest puff against an obstruction. When you look down, you see Arthur's face buried between your breasts, sucking gently at your damp skin. You take the opportunity to rest your head against his, feeling him hum with appreciation as he wraps you tightly in his arms.

It's a while before he comes up for air and even then he chooses to kiss your lips instead, his tongue still wet from nuzzling your bosom, hurried inside without ceremony. Rather than letting you come down from your high, it sustains itself with the extension of his enveloping kiss, making you tangle yourself against him in pure bliss.

"That was great, missy." His face slants to look up at yours as elated as you are, drunk on your own rapture as if it were his.

You take the chance to move slightly as you resettle on his lap, your core still sensitive as you brush against him. His member still pulses inside you and you're reminded of the pleasure you still have to bestow him. "It ain't over yet, cowboy." You push his shoulders to make him lean back against the bed, feeling very little resistance as he realizes it's his turn now, giving him a peck on his lips when he settles. "Show me what you had in mind."

His face turns somber, his eyes grow darker and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows your words, preparing to quell the overbearing lust running through his veins. His hands move to their previous place on your hips before you cover them with your own, encouraging him to move you however he desires. You feel the ridge of his knuckles shift as his fingers begin to knead your bruising flesh, his grip tightening as he finally starts to roll you against him. It's not long before your speed hastens and your pulse quickens again, needing to brace yourself on his shoulders, allowing close contact between your loose lips.

"Christ, missy. You're so good to me. You know that?" The meshing of your hips turns noisier by the second as they begin to slam into each other, his hands now directing you in up-and-down thrusts. "I oughta keep ya all to myself."

His member slides easily in and out of you with the blend of your fluids, his release approaching as he repeatedly hits your magical spot, both of you panting from renewed exhilaration.

Arthur keeps his eyes on you as if he's realizing something, you practically see a question form with the furrow of his brow. Suddenly he slows you down, limiting your thrusts without stopping them entirely. You know he's about to ask you something important if he's delaying his own release for it.

"You sleeping with anyone else?"

The question catches you by surprise, but you're quick to reply. "No."

It's the truth. You haven't slept with your husband in months and, when you did, there was nothing about it that was enjoyable or sensual. The last time was a brief tussle to get him off before he left for Annesburg, one where you didn't even pant and he didn't care if you did. You remember vividly feeling empty as he filled you up, the cracks on the ceiling as exciting as his thrusts. Just another passionless night with another heartless man in a list of too many few.

Now that you think about it, nothing can compare to what has happened between you and Arthur in the past few days. Not even close.

Your negative answer earns a purr of satisfaction from him, reaching for your chin with his fingers to pull you in. "Good. Keep it that way, yeah?"

You nod in agreement as you lean into his mouth, his tongue prodding yours to seal your vow of exclusivity as you surrender to the man who wants you all to himself, burying himself deeper within you.

His hands go back to your hips before they settle on your rear, grabbing hungrily as you both resume your lascivious pounding, the feeling intensified by the unceremonious binding of your union. Your breasts bounce wildly in front of him, earning his undisputed attention as he tries to land his lips on them. He stops when he begins to grunt disorderly, leaning his head against the headboard as he prepares to finish.

"Need you to rise, missy. I'm gonna-" He bites down on his lip, his teeth sinking hard as his hands promptly clasp your hips with all the will still left in him, with enough force to remove you from his cock, sitting you on top of his clenching thighs. He manages to stroke himself a few times before the white ropes erupt as he directs them to his stomach, his whole body trembling beneath yours. An earthquake of a deeply satisfied man.

He pants as he opens his eyes, his hands caressing your shoulders as he propels you forward to his kiss.

"So good to me.”

Your breasts dance against the sinful cadence of his heaving chest, his words reverberating close to your beating heart.

“And only me."

Your first ride on top was one to remember.

[l-lend]

a/n - Okay it's been a minute but another one for @clonexreaderbingo. This was a bit of a challenge since I've never written for Wolffe and Plo Koon so any feedback would be great.

Eager eyes watched from her perch on the sofa. Florescent costume jewelry encircled her tiny fingers as she gripped the back of the furniture. Her vigil quietly observed by her parents from the kitchen.

“How long has she been like this?” The clone commander asked.

The woman by his side exhaled an amused breath, “Since I told her you and I were going out.”

She turned to study his face as he regarded their daughter. Commander Wolffe was not the most outwardly expressive man, but with time spent together she had grown adept at discerning his mood. The spark in his left eye, the subtle curl of his lip. He saved his smiles for special occasions.

An amused huff blew from his nose as the child sprang from her post with a delighted squeal.

“He's here!”

With a squeeze of his hand from his lover, Wolffe ventured into the living room while his little one sprinted towards the door.

“He'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shere!”

As soon as the front door slid open, the child pounced.

“Uncle Plo!”

The guest in question crouched down to the child's level.

“Hello, little pup.”

The two exchanged a brief hug before the Kel Dor's gaze traveled to lock onto the clone. Plo raised a hand in greeting.

“Apologies, I was kept later than usual.”

“It's no problem,” the woman replied emerging from the kitchen, “Selene's been busy setting up.”

“Uh huh, Mom helped me with the snacks.”

“Oh,” Plo turned his attention back to Selene, “another of your tea parties? I seem to remember Sinker enjoying them.”

Selene nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! Wanna see?”

“I'd love to. If you give me a moment, I'll join you shortly.”

Wolffe's pup shot off. The sound of footfalls echoed down the hall.The adults sat in a moment of silence.

“Thank you for watching her.” Wolffe began.

The jedi's features crinkled, tinged with mirth, “It's no trouble. She's a welcomed break from the galaxy.”

A pair of hands grasped onto the clone's arm before he felt a familiar weight against his shoulder.

“We shouldn't be long.”

“Take all the time you need. However, I need to see about this tea party.”

“Wolffe?”

The commander's thoughts returned to his wife. Her features twisted in concern.

“Sorry, just...”

Her hand folded over his as if to bolster him.

“Work thoughts still going?”

He sighed in hopes of lifting the invisible weight off his chest.

“Selene was almost glad to see us go.”

Her features softened, “She doesn't get to see Plo too often.”

His flat gaze brushed away her attempts to cushion the blow.

“The war was easier, mesh'la. I could handle clankers.”

Her delicate fingers graced the underside of his chin, bringing his face back to her.

“She sees you trying,” She offered a smile, “just give her time.”

The clone commander chewed on her advice through the rest of their outing.

Selene frowned from her place at the head of her plastoid table.

“Something troubling you?”

The child's eyes remained on the brightly colored tea set.

“You've known my daddy a long time.”

The jedi master shifted on the seat he was perched on.

“I have. He and I helped a lot of people.”

“Do you think he likes me?”

Silence the span of a heart beat seemed to stretch for eternity. She fidgeted under his gaze. Plo took a breath as he meticulously picked his words.

“Do you know the name of your father's battalion?”

She nodded, “The wolf pack. There's a picture of a loth-wolf. Daddy has one.” Her fingers tapped her shoulder where a pauldron would sit.

Plo smiled, “You're right. Did he tell you the story about the loth-wolves?”

At the shake of her head, Plo began his tale.

“Loth-wolves are protectors. They scare off anything that would wish them harm, but all the loth-wolves come together to protect someone most precious.”

He glanced at her enraptured expression. Her body leaned forward as if to urge him on.

“One who was brave. She would feed them and care for them, and they vowed to defend her until the end.”

“Who was she?”

Plo tilted his head upward as if to ponder, “Princess Selene of the Cynthus moon.”

Her tiny jaw hit the floor. After a few moments, the child glanced from her plastoid table to a section of shelving that housed a variety of paper.

“Uncle Plo, can you help me with something?”

The commander and his wife soon shuffled in. However, something was amiss as Selene rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Daddy, I got something for you.”

At his piqued curiosity, he noticed both of her hands were hidden behind her back. She pursed her lips before she loosed a roll of her eyes. She was definitely his daughter.

“You gotta close your eyes first.”

A glance to his wife and a reassuring gesture from her, and his eyes slid closed. A ruffle of thick paper met his ears.

“Okay, you can look.”

His eyes immediately met the colorful paper that had seemingly suffered a glitter assault with a drawing that was similar to the artwork that was displayed in their kitchen. Selene held the paper aloft with a grin. The words 'You're Invited' penned in purple as well managed as her little hands could be.

@locitapurplepink, @rain-on-kamino @starrylothcat @writing-positivelyexisting @burningfieldof-clover @padawancat97 @ahsokastechie

[peppermintstarsonamintyway]

cacaoviar content from yours truly

woohoo finally finished that cacaoviar fic- believe me when i say i opted to cut it short cause i didn't know where to go (i am not a writer help me)

anyway cacaoviar mini-fic technically for @limboraptor under the cut :thumbsup: (y'all are free to draw stuff about this btw)

It was an early morning in the snow covered, cliffside, kingdom, truthfully a little too early for more than half the kingdom.

Dark Cacao, dressed in his royal kimono, furred cloak over his shoulders and crown discarded for the moment, was of the only few actually awake, a candle on the chabudai he used as his desk, and a cushion beneath his legs where he sat on his knees.

The contents atop the low built table consisted of paperwork and documents, mostly diplomatic things involving other kingdoms, a small ink vial, and the quill in the nobleman's hand.

If you were to ask him, Cacao wouldn't be able to give you a reason as to why he was up so early, mindlessly filling out paperwork. No one was to be visiting him, especially at such an hour of the morning, so it's not like he was just passing the time with paperwork.

Or, at least, he thought no one was supposed to be visiting him.

Turns out his seafaring, not yet boyfriend, boyfriend had different, specifically unannounced, plans.

Cacao was startled from the calm of methodical scratching against paper by the sound of the door to his quarters being forced open, rather unceremoniously too, the screeching of the sliding door against it's frame greatly unpleasant to his ears.

Before Cacao could look up, a familiarly warm hearted, albeit shivering, voice range from the door.

"Cacao!" A snow covered, and slightly frostbitten, Captain Caviar shouted with delight as he barged into the room, tossing aside his coat onto the wooden flooring.

With a soft sigh and warm smile, Cacao rose from his cushion, clasping his hands together as he moved to meet the sailor halfway.

"Caviar." Cacao greeted with a nod, before he brushed some snow off of Caviar's fluffy hair, unable to help himself from toying with the soft dark curls for just a moment. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too!" Caviar grinned widely in return, his hands placed on his hips as he leaned into that small moment of a gentle hand in his hair.

In the back of his mind, Caviar wanted that moment to last a lot longer than just a few seconds, but, he wouldn't admit that. At least not aloud.

"…You're freezing, aren't you?" Cacao suddenly chimed, narrowing his dark purple-ish brown eyes, as he moved to remove his cloak, draping the warm, heavy duty, fabric over the barely covered sailor, gently bundling him up.

"Whaattt?? I'm fine! A little cold never bothered me!"

"You frequent tropical seas more than you do glacial seas, you are more often on a boat than you are on land, and it's six in the morning."

"…Y-Yeah- so what?-"

"Do you truly expect me to believe that you didn't spend half a day tripping and falling through the snow just trying to get here? I'm well aware sea legs don't mix with multiple feet of snow."

"…Okay fine- I might have fallen a few times-"

Caviar crossed his arms, puffing up his cheeks as he snuggled up in the furred cloak, to which Cacao couldn't help but chuckle warmly at the sight of.

Cacao, taking one of Caviar's hands in his own, his own scarred fingers grazing over the callouses of the sailor's, callouses that he found beautiful in their own way, built from years of hardwork protecting his home.

With a small, gentle kiss to the back of the sailor's hand, the nobleman looked up at him through dark, white speckled, eyelashes, and spoke with loving concern. "My dear captain, do I need to remind you that you can't be visiting my kingdom without weather appropriate wear? One of these days, you'll end up catching a cold."

Caviar however, face flushed with bright red blush, looked away from Cacao, covering his face with his free hand.

"Look, I've been trying alright- wearing such heavy clothing just ain't comfortable-" Caviar tried to argue, yet was met with a look that quite clearly said "and yet you're soaking up being in my cloak".

Without even a proper word from Cacao, Caviar continued. "This thing's an exception alright!" The sailor argued, the nobleman giving not but a small laugh at the sailor's attempts to defend himself.

"I suppose, perhaps, I'll have to have something tailored for you then, yes?" Cacao offered, as he turned over Caviar's hand to nuzzle the sailor's palm, gently kissing the rough skin.

"Y-yeah…" Caviar managed to mutter, a rare sight for the sailor to stutter but one that Cacao reveled in nonetheless. "W-whatever floats your boat-"

Suddenly, Caviar stiffened, his face scrunching up, before he sneezed, his body reacting violently, his entire body bouncing a little. Rubbing his nose with his fist, Caviar was quiet for a few moments, Cacao staring at him in surprise.

Before inevitably bursting into a fit of soft laughter, pulling the sailor closer to him. "I believe my point has been further proven." Cacao murmured through his laughter, pressing his face against the sailor's forehead, brushing away some of his fluffy hair to kiss his skin.

The sailor sniffled, rubbing his face with his arm as he grumbled a little, visibly irritated by the fact the cold had gotten to him this time.

"It was just a snee-" Caviar went to retort, but before he could finish, he was cut off by a small yelp as Cacao clasped his hand, tugging him along after him.

Both grew quiet as Caviar stumbled after Cacao, the sailor's expression softening to match the nobleman's. Caviar would have said he was surprised when he noticed they were headed towards Cacao's bedroom, but truthfully he wasn't.

Nestling into the nobleman's bed with him had become a routine for the sailor, especially when making visits like these. It wasn't like anything had happened yet anyways.

So, without complaint, Caviar carefully clipped off any accessories he had and set them on the nearby nightstand after Cacao released his hand, the nobleman going to make the bed and get some tissues for the sailor's nose.

It took a couple minutes, but eventually, Caviar got comfortable.

Wrapped up in Cacao's cloak, with blankets pulled up over his body, and a plush of the nobleman in his arms, Caviar couldn't help but smile softly.

It wasn't long after Caviar got settled that Cacao joined him, carefully climbing under the covers with him, snuggling up to him despite the possibility of getting sick as well…if Caviar was sick.

"…You're a goof ball." Caviar grumbled despite shamelessly resting his head on Cacao's chest, pressing his nose into the slightest bit of skin the kimono couldn't cover.

The nobleman smiled, bringing his hand up to twine his fingers through the curly locks of Caviar's hair. "But I'm your goof ball, aren't I?" Cacao retort, grinning lightly against the sailor's hair.

Caviar released a soft chuff, rolling his eye in a manner that said "shut up and just cuddle", and quiet Cacao did grow. Aside from the faint rumbles that resonated from his chest alongside his beating heart.

It was an ever snowy afternoon in the cliffside kingdom when Caramel Arrow and Crunchy Chip found their king fast asleep with the sailor they'd come to know as his unofficial lover.

Neither cookie said a word, simply smiled softly as they looked between themselves and the sight before them. Eventually, they left after making sure the two were tucked in properly.

A small plushie of a rice cake hound was the only thing left behind that implied the two were ever there.

[cnnmairoll]

Sunday Mornings and Cookies

Pairing : Sampo Koski x Reader Genre : Fluff, Domestic Summary : On a lazy Sunday filled with flour-dusted laughter and affectionate banter, you and Sampo create a batch of imperfectly perfect cookies, turning a simple baking session into a cherished memory of sweet delights and tender love. a/n : this fic is part of The Domestic Things They Do With You so feel free to check out what other character will be there!

The morning sun painted a canvas of warmth across your room, coaxing you from the embrace of sleep. You stirred beneath the soft sheets, your senses slowly coming to life as you stretched languidly. As your eyelids fluttered open, your gaze fell upon the sight that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

Sampo Koski, with his emerald eyes that held the secrets of a thousand tales, and his dark blue hair adorned with white stripes that seemed to capture the essence of a starlit night, was lying beside you. His lips curled into a soft smile as he sensed your awakening.

"Good morning, my treasure," he purred, his voice like honey with a hint of playfulness. "Did you dream about me all night?"

You chuckled and nuzzled your nose against his chest. "Maybe I did. Maybe you were charming your way into my dreams again."

Sampo chuckled, his fingers now dancing up and down your spine. "Well, I can't help it if I'm unforgettable, can I?"

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before settling into a comfortable silence. The apartment felt warm and inviting, a cocoon where the outside world couldn't reach you. The soft hum of a distant city mingled with the sound of your steady breathing. 

"You know, lazy Sundays like these are precious. No clients, no schemes, just you and me."

You hummed in agreement, your eyes fluttering closed "I could get used to this. Just being here with you."

His lips brushed against your forehead in a sweet, lingering kiss. "I hope you do get used to it, because I plan on having many more lazy Sundays with you."

The two of you shifted, and suddenly you were draped across Sampo's chest, his arms securely around you. His fingers traced invisible patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"You know, I was thinking," he began, his tone contemplative. "Maybe we could try our hand at baking today. I've heard rumors that I'm quite the pastry chef."

You lifted your head and looked at him skeptically. "Rumors? From who? Your overinflated ego?"

Sampo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "My ego is hurt! My dear, sweet companion betrays me!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, alright. We can bake something. But just remember, I have my doubts."

Sampo's grin widened, and he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "Doubt all you want, my love. You'll see the masterpiece that is my baking skills soon enough."

—----

Sampo's mischievous grin never left his face as he reached for the flour, his fingers dancing playfully through the white powder. "Are you ready to witness the culinary masterpiece that is about to unfold?"

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "I can't wait to see this masterpiece of yours, Mr. Pastry Chef."

With an exaggerated flourish, Sampo grabbed a mixing bowl and started combining the ingredients. "First, a cup of sugar, for sweetness as radiant as your smile."

You chuckled as he winked at you, his words a charming serenade that wrapped around your heart. "And next, a dash of salt, because life needs a little flavor."

As he continued to recite his poetic instructions, you couldn't help but be captivated by his playful spirit. The room seemed to brighten as he moved around with an easy grace, his fingers measuring and mixing with practiced confidence.

"Now, my love," he announced with a flourish, "we add the vanilla extract, for that touch of sophistication that only you can bring."

"You're quite the wordsmith, aren't you?" You snickered

Sampo winked again, his emerald eyes sparkling. "Only when it comes to describing my muse."

As the batter came together, you took over the mixing duties, your hands moving with gentle precision. Sampo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving you as he admired your skills.

"You know," he mused, "there's a certain elegance in the way you handle things. It's as if every movement you make is a dance."

You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. "You really know how to turn a simple baking session into a romantic affair."

Sampo strolled over, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "Why settle for anything less when I have the most enchanting partner by my side?"

With his presence surrounding you, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging that was unmatched. You leaned into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your back.

"Alright, Chef Sampo," you teased, "what's the next step in this culinary journey?"

He chuckled and reached for the chocolate chips, his fingers dancing through the mound of goodness. "Ah, the pièce de résistance! These chocolate chips, my dear, are like the moments we share – sweet, irresistible, and sprinkled throughout our lives."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his words, a mixture of humor and genuine affection that was uniquely Sampo. Together, you folded the chocolate chips into the batter, the mixture taking on a deliciously tempting appearance.

As you spooned the batter onto the baking sheet, Sampo grabbed another spoon and playfully swiped a dollop of batter, smearing it on your cheek. "A dash of playfulness, just to keep things interesting."

You gasped in mock surprise, pretending to be scandalized. "You're incorrigible!"

He grinned unapologetically, his fingers reaching up to wipe the batter off your cheek. "Guilty as charged, my love."

With the baking sheet ready, you placed it in the oven, the anticipation of the sweet treats to come filling the air. Sampo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

15 minutes later, the cookie was done, Sampo carefully pulled out the tray from the oven and set it down on the counter. "See? I told you I had a hidden talent," Sampo declared triumphantly, holding up a misshapen heart-shaped cookie as if it were a prized possession.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "You're impossible."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that spoke of lazy mornings and shared moments. "But I'm your impossible, aren't I?"

As the day stretched on, you found yourselves lounging on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs as a movie played on the television. Sampo's fingers idly drew patterns on your thigh, his eyes half-lidded as he absorbed the plot.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you teased, poking his side. "Are you actually paying attention to the movie?"

Sampo feigned innocence, blinking up at you with those emerald eyes. "Of course! It's a... uh... a story about... well, something riveting, I'm sure."

You laughed and shook your head, snuggling closer to him. "You're hopeless."

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his side. "But I'm your hopeless."

And in that moment, surrounded by the comfort of your shared space and the warmth of your love, you realized that lazy Sundays with Sampo were your favorite days in the world. No grand adventures or elaborate schemes were necessary when you had each other.

As the movie played on, you let yourself drift into a contented slumber, secure in the knowledge that you were exactly where you belonged – in the arms of the silver-tongued merchant who had stolen your heart.

[bunnakit]

much ado about shin

so i wanted to put my thoughts and feelings down on the trajectory of Bake Me Please yesterday but i had a splitting migraine and couldn't thoughts well, so here it is today.

i've said it in the past but Shin doesn't know how to give affection, he doesn't know what it means to love, because he's never had proper examples of what that looks like. we're modeled by our environment and Shin has grown up very isolated from everything, so he's wildly out of his depth when it comes to more tender feelings. i said last week i believed we would see Shin try and use food, the only instance where he does understand love, to try and apologize to Peach and i was delighted when it turned out i was right.

this doesn't mean i'm not still infuriated with Shin, though. his constant ego is tiring, the fact he thinks he invented the fucking torta caprese (i don't think you were around in 1920 Shin, sorry,) the way he called Peach's dream stupid, the fact he doesn't understand why Guy would leave to pursue his own dreams (again, i wonder if Shin has ever had a dream,) and the way he just doesn't. fucking. listen.

we did see a glimpse this week, a little nod that Shin has changed. he grows defensive around Peach because that's the source of his hurt right now but when he was alone in the kitchen with Atom he didn't lash out, wasn't rude to him, he was soft and kind and even vulnerable as he hid his tears. Shin is changing, he's keeping good habits for the most part, which is good to see. now if only he could be that way around Peach.

while i don't understand why we're supposed to keep giving Shin our patience and understanding (the narrative really hasn't done much to redeem him in my eyes) i do appreciate from a narrative standpoint that we're being shown that impulsively falling into bed with someone with little communication or understanding does not a good relationship make.

Shin and Peach had no discussion of their feelings for each other before or after sleeping together and it became very clear very quickly that they still don't even really know each other. Shin had no idea about Peach's dream, barely knows anything about how he grew up, and has shared very little of himself with Peach - and even asks Peach to keep their relationship a secret with zero explanation. (i don't know what you expected him to think Shin you fucking doorknob.) they're good at flirting, at falling into bed together, at being playful, but they're absolutely dog shit at talking.

you know who isn't bad at talking?

here i go again. but honestly, Guy has always talked to Peach about what bothers him, what he likes, what he wants to do with his life. this is the number one reason i won't classify Guy as an incel "nice guy" character (Oab) because he does genuinely care about Peach and what goes on in Peach's life. he's listened to Peach complain about Shin, watched them get together, and has comforted Peach numerous times. he knows Peach better than his own boyfriend, fling, whatever does and i think that's probably what is fueling so much of his frustration and petty actions.

i also think this relationship between Peach and Guy is why so many of us would rather see those two get together. they communicate, recent events not withstanding, they have fun together and have genuinely really liked each other (platonically) since episode 1. your partner should be your best friend and aside from Atom i believe Guy is the best friend Peach has. they would probably work so well together, support each other, and make the most amazing bakery of Peach's dreams together - if only Peach could stop giving a shit about Shin.

and like, the heart wants what the heart wants or whatever. sure. but i'm genuinely very concerned we're going to see Peach apologizing to Shin in the finale and Shin taking no accountability or it being brushed off as "that's just how Shin is." i need to see Shin apologize, whether with words, actions, or something, for calling Peach's dream stupid. above everything else that absolutely needs to be addressed because that's something Peach will remember forever. our brain has a funny way of latching on to the worst things people have said to us and rotating them in a microwave.

i would respect the show so fucking much if Shin and Peach didn't get back together, if they went their separate ways. is it a cute ending to a love story? absolutely not, but it would be so realistic and even healthy. sometimes you meet someone and it's fun and the sex is good but it's just never going to work and you can't change people (they can only change themselves.) i would even appreciate if they went a 'right person, wrong time' approach; maybe a time skip where Peach has his dream shop, Shin walks in, and they can try again.

all i know is i REALLY don't want to see this all put on Peach's shoulders, and i don't really want Guy to be pigeon holed into being a villain either. Shin's being fucking goofy and i think Guy's antics are the wake up call he needs (when he wakes up from his.. heart attack? embolism? stroke?) to get his shit together and treat Peach right.

but if he shoves Peach one more time i'm ripping his arms off and beating him with them, that's for sure.