Tumgik
#YES THEY DO WANT TO OWN EACH OTHER. THE MOST REAL SUMMARY
entitled-fangirl · 5 months
Text
One happy marriage.
Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader
Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
..........................................................
"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"
He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"
Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.
Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."
She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."
This started to worry the poor man.
His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."
She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."
He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."
She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."
Benedict sighs.
He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.
He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"
She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."
He nods in thought, "Alright?"
She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."
Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."
She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."
He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."
She felt awful.
Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"
Her head perked up. "My work?"
He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."
She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."
Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."
She stiffened. "What?"
He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."
Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.
Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"
"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.
"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."
"But how did you know?"
He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."
She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.
She jumped into his lap and held him close.
And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.
He pulled away just to kiss her.
They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.
She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"
He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"
Two artists make one happy marriage.
...................................................................
2K notes · View notes
amethystwrytes · 1 month
Text
Of Course, Professor
Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader
Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.
Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.
Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.
A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 
Tumblr media
“Can you stop please?” 
You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 
“...Sorry…” 
You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 
To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 
If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 
You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.
“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 
“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 
There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 
“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 
Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 
You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 
“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 
“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 
“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 
“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 
“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 
“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 
He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.
You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 
You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 
“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 
“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 
“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.
“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”
You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 
The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 
Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 
Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 
“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 
Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 
“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 
Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 
“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 
“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 
“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 
He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 
“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 
“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 
You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 
“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 
“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 
“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 
“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 
“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 
“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 
You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.
“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 
“You just said…”
“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 
You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”
Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 
You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 
“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 
“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 
“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?” 
“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 
“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 
“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 
“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 
“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.
“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 
“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 
“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 
📖 ❤️
You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 
“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 
“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 
“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 
“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 
“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”
“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 
“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 
“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 
“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 
“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 
He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 
You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…
You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…
You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 
“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 
“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 
“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 
This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 
📖 ❤️
“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 
“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 
Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 
“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 
“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 
“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 
“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 
“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 
“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 
“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 
“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 
“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 
“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 
“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 
“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 
“Never something you what?” he presses. 
You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 
“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 
“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 
“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 
“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 
“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 
“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 
“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 
“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 
“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 
“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 
“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”
“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 
“Is this your building?” he points. 
“Yes, it is.” 
He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 
He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 
“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 
“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 
You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 
“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 
To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.
“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 
“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 
“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 
“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 
“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 
“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 
“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 
“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 
“Yeah, that sounds good.” 
“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 
“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 
“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 
You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 
📖 ❤️
Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.
“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 
“Already?” he looks at you. 
“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 
“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 
Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 
“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 
“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 
Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 
“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 
He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 
You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 
“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 
“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 
“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 
“Good, shall we?” 
📖 ❤️
“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 
“No.” 
Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 
“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 
“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 
“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 
“I’ll get those right out.” 
Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 
“Is everything alright?” you ask. 
“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 
“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 
“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 
“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 
“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 
You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 
“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 
“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 
“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 
You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 
“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 
You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 
You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 
“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 
The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 
📖 ❤️
The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 
His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 
“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 
“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 
He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 
“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 
Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 
“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 
He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 
“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 
He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 
“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 
“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 
“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 
“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 
Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 
He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 
You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 
“I…why?”
You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 
“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 
You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 
You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 
“God…” 
You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 
“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 
“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 
“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 
He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 
📖 ❤️
The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 
“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 
He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 
You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 
“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 
“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 
“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 
“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 
He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 
“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 
“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 
You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 
“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 
“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  
Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 
“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 
“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 
He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 
“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 
“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 
“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 
“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 
“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 
You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 
His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 
“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 
“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 
“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 
“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 
He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 
He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 
📖 ❤️
You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 
He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 
Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 
“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.
At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,
See you at my place tonight?
The End
Endnote:
I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.
Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.
710 notes · View notes
lovelytsunoda · 7 months
Text
tell it to my heart // jenson button (instagram au!)
summary: jenson and his pop-culture icon wifey celebrate their wedding anniversary and the fans reminisce on how they got there.
pairing: jenson button x 2000s actress! reader
faceclaim: sarah michelle gellar
notes: genuinely sarah michelle and freddie prinze have my whole fucking heart…he’s truly and utterly infatuated by her and they just love each other so much, I’m getting weepy just looking at their wedding photos-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2000sthrowbacks On this day in 2010, "Scooby-Doo" and "I Know What You Did Last Summer" actress Y/N Y/L/N announced her engagement to Formula 1 driver Jenson Button. To celebrate, we're counting down our favorite Y/N roles, starting with Daphne Blake in "Scooby-Doo" and "Scooby-Doo: Monsters Unleashed!"
see all comments
user how jenson bagged this baddie i will never understand
-> jensonbutton i still don't understand it either but i love her and she loves me and i hope it stays that way
user mother
user I can’t believe they’ve been married for ten years already….they haven’t aged a day
user I love how they’re both majorly successful in their own fields yet still managed to make time to support each other, even when it meant that YN had to turn down an audition for ‘the ghost of girlfriends past’ so she could be there to watch brawn win the championship
user real talk, has jenson ever asked her to wear the buffy the vampire slayer costume in bed (because if i was him that's what i'd be doing)
->y/nbutton only once and it was awkward for both of us.
Y/N Button on Live with Kelley and Mark
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
y/nbutton added to her story!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
jensonbutton just posted!
Tumblr media
liked by y/nbutton, markwebber, lewishamilton and others
jensonbutton happy anniversary to the love of my life, the most beautiful woman in the world, the mother of my children. she's definitely too cool for me, and i take that in stride. in fact, on the day we got married, fernando asked me if i still wanted to go through with the wedding, and that i should tie you down before you realized you could have literally any man in the world. needless to say, it felt surreal that you chose me. we've spent fourteen beautiful years together, and i can't wait for fourteen more.
i love you, y/n.
see all comments
y/nbutton i love you more and more with every passing day xx
fernandoalonso you were punching way above your weight class hermano
-> jensonbutton and yet im the one with a wife and you're not?
-> fernandoalsonso shut up
alex_albon she's everything, he's just ken
-> user LMAO ALEX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
user parents
user dilf
-> y/nbutton agreed.
-> user milf
-> jensonbutton yes.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @thatsdemko @userlando @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck
929 notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
— seven
Tumblr media
SUMMARY : dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester, donna handscum
WARNINGS : smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, losers), fluff, the plot is abandoned :’(
WORD COUNT : 5.2k
A/N : yes, seven by jungkook. this fills the square for new position on my @jacklesversebingo card. this position is called ‘rocking horse’, lmao, very hot
Tumblr media
She was staring at the screen of her laptop, every link was now purple instead of blue from having explored them all on her journey to research all there was to know about the Egyptian goddess Taweret. Still, she found nothing on how to weaken, stop, or kill the hippo. Taweret’s distorted usage of her abilities was getting too out of hand.
Too many pregnant people. Too many old people getting young again. Especially couples. For now, at least, that’s all that’s happened. 
Typically Sam, Dean, and Y/N dealt with the killing, the death, and the blood, but Donna managed to pick this up on her own and called the brothers for backup because it was starting to get way too ridiculous—terrifying, really. Reapers were overwhelmed and while the Winchesters and Y/N didn’t really care about how they were feeling, it was a major problem—when speaking about the universal rules: what is, what should be, what was, what should never be, etcetera. 
Unfortunately, the research has led to no real or useful information for how to stop the Goddess, not even how to kill her. And once Dean started to hum Travelling Riverside Blues while shaking his leg impatiently in the fourth hour, she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore.
Now that same song was stuck in her head and she glared at her laptop while trying to get a different song to replace Led Zeppelin’s in her mind. It wasn’t a bad song, but it got irritating, and every song somehow morphed right back to Travelling Riverside Blues. Her and Dean had been so good about focusing on the research, but sometimes one of them always made it impossible for the other to maintain that amount of silence and focus around each other. 
It usually started with some small conversations: How’s the research going? Have you found anything yet? Hey, remember when…? Are you hungry? I’m kinda hungry. Aren’t you tired? And so on. 
Then there were glances. From a distance, they’d stare at each other when the other isn’t looking, wondering if enough time has passed to not feel guilty for wanting to take a break. They’d smile to themselves, catching cute little habits in body language or facial expressions. 
Sometimes—most of the time—there was some sexualisation. If she’s wearing a skirt or a dress, he’d stare at the curve of her legs in some really sexy heels. He’d wish to have them wrapped around his waist as he fucks her or thrown over his shoulders with his face buried between her legs. He’d have to subtly place a hand over his crotch and hope his erection would go away or stop getting harder. 
If the neck of her clothes was low enough to show some cleavage, he’d spend his time analysing the size of them, the roundness and perkiness of them in the clothes she wore. Or remembering the way they felt in his hands, warm and soft, and the way she looked so hot when he’d tease her sensitive nipples with his fingers, the noises she made playing in his head until he was hot and red in the face.
And his mind would drift endlessly to the memory of her naked body. The perfect dip of her waist when he holds her there and the way she squirms when he does it. The softness of her skin when his hands and his mouth are exploring, sucking, licking, biting, tasting her as his mouth waters hungrily; touching, squeezing, scraping, possibly bruising her body so she could always remember him. So she could always feel him and where he had been. 
He’d stare at her hands as she typed away at the laptop, expertly pressing the keys with those swift and elegant fingers of her. She’d keep her nails relatively short and occasionally did them nicely. Currently, they were painted a mossy green colour that matched the gem of the silver ring she wore, one he’d picked out for her. Both of them knew the nail polish wouldn’t last, but he liked when she felt beautiful, it somehow made her a billion times more beautiful. 
It was the memory of them slowly moving across his body, worshipping while soft and sometimes cold, smaller than his, that made him bite his lip. Even the gentle caresses to his face when he was on the brink of breaking apart into dust in grief and despair. Her hand in his whenever they went somewhere, while they slept, in the Bunker, in the Impala, during sex. 
If he’s rolled up the sleeves of a white dress shirt, she’ll stare at the way the material stretches over his chest and broad shoulders, tightening around his arms when he flexes his hands and arms as a result of a cramp or the like. With that tiny fucking waist of his accentuated by the shirt tucked into his slacks, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to fuck him senseless or hold him gently in her arms. 
If he walked around to get a beer, she’d stare at the tightness of the black slacks over his ass, over his strong thighs when he’d bend over to reach down for the bottle. She’d have to hold back a moan and squeeze her thighs together to stop herself from jumping his bones or actually moaning out loud. 
Even his fucking fingers turned her on. It was fucking annoying, when he’d brush his thumb across his plump bottom lip to swipe away droplets of beer. It was embarrassing the way her walls clenched around nothing just at the memory of having his thick fingers inside her, pushing and stroking, quick and steadfast. Her panties soaked through with arousal with every bit of motion from his hands. Even when he’s cleaning their weapons. 
But the one thing that truly made her lose her mind were his lips. They were so distracting. All the time. Whenever he speaks, her eyes are glued on his lips, but he doesn’t think much of it because she does it often with everyone in order to focus on what they’re saying. He just doesn’t understand how much that doesn’t work for her when it’s his lips she’s looking at. 
All she can think about is how kissable they look, how soft they’d feel against hers, and how funny it would be if she just kissed him mid-sentence. He’d have that cute, bewildered, but pleased look on his face. He bit them often when he was deep in thought, slowly releasing it, turning it red and swollen, just slightly covered in his spit. 
He had the cutest habits with his mouth. Puckering them when he’s eating, pouting all the time, sometimes he said certain words they’d pout even more, and when he was pissed or focused. And then he did that model thing with his lips, leaving them slightly parted as he stared at nothing or was considering something seriously. 
He was fucking delicious. And that mouth of his was ridiculously talented. Really, very yummy…
It was unfair that he looked as sinful and as fuckable as he did without having to try. Even after waking up, with his soft hair spiked up in some places and flat in others. When his voice was thick and hot with sleep and he’d murmur half-irritated words if he was woken too early, or hot and loving things being mumbled against her ear when he was in a mood. 
After all that staring and longing, there would be trips to the fridge, when either one of them grabbed snacks for the other. Hands and fingers brushing against each other when passing over the snacks or drinks. Little smiles were exchanged and yearning sparkled in their eyes, but neither of them did or said anything about it, so the tension grew and grew. 
Maybe one of them might get closer to the other, pretending to curiously look at the work they were doing. Slowly, their eyes would drift innocently to each other and there would be an exchange of teasing and amused smiles. And then they’d bring their laptop or books closer and stay there, slowly legs would start to touch each other. 
It was like a circuit of lust. The endless tensions and the electricity that made them shiver, skin prickling, hair sticking up; for her: nipples tightening and tingly cunt dampening her panties; for him: cock stirring, slowly hardening and straining in his boxers. Their breaths became noticeably heavier and their eyes would be heavy with desire, and their arms and hands would touch to increase the voltage on each other’s skin until they just couldn’t take it and had to do something about it. 
They weren’t quite there yet, but they were both thinking about it. They already knew themselves and how things progressed from years of being together. It was nice.
“This is so fucking boring!” Dean whined abruptly, throwing his head back and running his hands down his face. “We shoulda stayed with Sammy and Donna to talk to witnesses.” He slumped down in his chair with a pout and then turned to look at his girlfriend who pursed her lips to stop a smile from spreading across her tinted lips. 
“You told Sam your knee was still hurting from the last hunt and wanted to come back here,” she reminded him with a laugh, moving the laptop off her lap to twist her torso left and right until the crack of her spine made her sigh happily.
“Yeah, well now my ass hurts, too,” he complained, arching his back in the chair and flattening his hands down his backside as it became numb. 
“Then stop sitting and walk around for a bit,” she suggested, stretching her legs underneath the table so their feet knocked against each other. 
“Ugh, fine,” he grunted petulantly, tapping his foot against hers in retaliation before getting up. He shut his laptop, taking the now-warm beer on the table with him. He squatted for a few seconds and she laughed through her nose, stretching in the chair while she watched him try to ease the pain on his butt from sitting. 
“Fuck, this feels so good… and painful, all at once,” he chuckled, pursing his lips so his little dimples appeared above his lips. He hissed when he strained his sore knee and then sighed when he was satisfied. When he stood up straight, he scrunched up his cute nose when something popped pleasantly, and slapped his own ass with both hands—at the same time. 
“Better?” She asked with a grin. 
“Not really,” he frowned dramatically, hunching his back. 
“Aw, come ‘ere then, sweetheart.” She mimicked his pout, moved her chair back from the table and patted her lap. “Come sit on daddy’s lap,” she said with a grin, then snorted. He let out a loud laugh and stood up straight again, placing his beer back on the table to make his way onto her lap. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re heavy,” she whispered playfully when he sat on her legs. 
“Shudup,” he said with a soft laugh, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to play with her hair and resting his over hand on her waist, his thumb brushing back and forth distractedly. 
“So, how’s it going?” She asked, a soft smile growing on her lips as she looked up at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, intertwining her fingers to keep her hands from slipping away. 
“I’m bored,” he mumbled, lifting his hand from her waist to play with the thin strap of her red dress. 
“Yeah, you said that.” She stared at him for a moment, watching the way his eyes drifted from her hair, to her shoulder, and finally her breasts. 
“Do you have any idea how much I wanna fuck you?” Dean asked unexpectedly, his eyes snapping back up to hers to capture her reaction. She blinked at him in astonishment, a smile slowly growing on her face. “How much I’ve wanted to bend you over every counter we’ve come across?” He murmured, cupping the back of her head to gently tilt her head back, her lips parting and her heartbeat rising in response. She tightened her entwined fingers, staring into both of his eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers. “How badly I wanna taste you? Kiss your lips? And touch every inch of your sexy body?” 
“Dean,” she uttered breathily. 
He smirked, teasing her by keeping his face inches away from hers, refusing her the pleasure of a kiss. His fingers slipped away from the strap of her dress to sneak into the top, but as his hands turned downward to cup her breasts, his fingers brushed against coarse material.
“Fucking boobtape,” he whispered and she laughed.
“My tits have to stay up somehow and not slip out if I have to fight,” she reasoned, feeling his fingers start to pick at the sticky tape. “Plus, a bra won’t make this dress look very nice. I mean… it’s got you this needy and hard...” She bit her lip and untangled her fingers to slide a hand between his legs. He became stiff and his breath hitched when she patted his hardening dick. “Get off me,” she murmured lightheartedly, letting him go completely. 
“Y-yeah, okay,” he stammered, swiftly standing up off her lap. 
He’d barely straightened up in front of her when she was starting to pull at the dark green tie to bring his lips down to hers in a rough kiss. He all but moaned against her mouth, grasping her hips desperately to pull the thin and silky cloth up so it bunched up at her waist, exposing some seamless, red panties that nearly matched the softness of the blood-red dress. 
“Bed,” she murmured airily against his lips. 
Dean nodded and quickly pressed his lips against hers again, moving with her as she made her way backwards, his hands groping and touching her body, hers pulling and tugging at his hair, their teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths. Lost in eachother, she ended up pressed against the wall with his knee shoved between her legs.
He pulled away, just to keep teasing her, “think I can make you cum on my thigh again?” He kissed down her jawline, his stubble tickling her soft skin, setting her nerves alight when he got to her neck, kissing softly and gently nipping at her pulse. 
“I don’t doubt it,” she moaned, tilting her head back for him to stay there longer. He began rocking his knee back and forth, wrapped his arm around her waist and jutted her hips out slightly to position her perfectly on the tensing muscle of his thigh. 
She grabbed at his hips with both hands and gasped at the friction on her clit. She started to roll her hips to match his movements, fumbling with his belt, struggling only because he wouldn’t keep still and her hands were shaking with desire, but she got it off eventually. 
He pulled away from her before she could unbutton his pants and she pouted at him.
“Come sit on daddy’s lap,” he mocked her words from earlier with a laugh, sitting down on the bed. He patted his thigh for her to continue riding, and while the thought of that was hot, she was hung up on him calling himself daddy, even if it was a joke.  
“Ewww,” she complained, holding back laughter. Still, she made her way between his legs and straddled one of his thighs, kissing his cheeks and forehead rather than plopping down and riding his thigh. 
“Can I take the titty tape off?” He asked, lowering the neck of her dress to peek at the tape that matched her skin tone. She nodded, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, and settled onto his thigh, busying herself with loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 
“What if I tattoo your name on my body?” She murmured. Dean shifted his gaze away from her chest to look at her inquisitively, blindly and carefully peeling off the tape from the skin of her breast. “Not a tacky tattoo, maybe Times New Roman, font size 10,” she replied playfully, dropping a chaste kiss to his parted lips.
“Oh,” he uttered shyly, and stayed quiet for a couple of moments. “Where?” He finally asked, giving her time to think before moving to her other breast to remove the tape there. She pondered for a while and then shrugged.
“Maybe… my finger,” she answered, wiggling her middle finger mischievously at him—as if flipping him off. He laughed at her, balled up the tape now that he was done, and threw it on the floor. 
“No….” He disagreed gently, grabbing her hand to close her fist, then kissed her knuckles. She bit her lip, smiling shyly when he looked up at her through his thick lashes. 
“No?” She questioned, rolling her hips against his thigh, her knee gently brushing against his erection. He shook his head and moaned, leaning forward to press hot and wet kisses along her neck. 
“Maybe here,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping at her pulse point. She gasped and squirmed against his thigh, fisting his white t-shirt in one hand and burying her fingers into his hair with the other. “Or here,” he suggested, squeezing her breast, “maybe here would be better,” he added, then slapped her ass hard enough for her to yelp and jump. 
“All three of those places, then?” She teased breathlessly, rolling her hips slowly and sensually. He sucked softly at her clavicle, then dropped a few kisses onto her breasts. 
“Definitely,” he approved, dragging his lips up to her shoulders, letting his mouth push away the thin straps of her dress. “My favourite places.” She chuckled, squirming impatiently on his thigh. She guided his lips back up to hers by tugging at the short strands of his hair, choosing to nibble on his lip teasingly until he crashed his mouth against hers. “Need you…” he whispered between needy kisses, and slowly started to lift her dress upwards.
While she removed the dress, he shrugged off the white dress shirt, struggled a little when the sleeve got caught around his watch. “Fucken…” he grunted, unbuttoning the cuff with irritation.
“Don’t worry, baby, I love taking my time with you,” she laughed, pulling the t-shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants.
“Well, me personally? I don’t wanna have to pull out halfway through sex because Sammy’s on his way back. Not again,” he said seriously, lifting his arms to help her remove his shirt. She gave him an empathetic smile which quickly turned into an amused one when she remembered how uncomfortable and sensitive he had been the rest of the day. “It’s not funny, I was about to come, but fucken Sam had to text…” he pouted, then smiled when she started to laugh. 
“Yeah… as funny as that was, I really need to come right now,” she conceded and climbed off his lap to remove her underwear. Dean reached out excitedly for them, playfully brushing her hands out of the way to pull her underwear down swiftly. 
“I want you to come, too,” he said, licking his lips. She laughed quietly, holding his shoulders for balance, lifting her knee up so he could take her underwear off completely. “On my dick, though, not in my thigh,” he clarified, immediately pulling her back into him. 
He dropped impatient kisses along her waist, forcing her to climb onto the bed on her knees, before moving his mouth upwards, his hands exploring her smooth body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to steady her breath. She held him close to her, let him slowly pull her down onto his lap until their hips met. 
“Dean, you gotta get your pants off,” she sighed. 
“Stay,” he breathed, rolling his hips up into hers as a promise of what he’d give her. She moaned in surprise, whining when he pulled away and spread his legs, forcing her to do the same. Cool air passed between her soaked folds and she gasped.
Awkwardly, he fumbled with his slacks’ button between their bodies, careful not to make her shift or fall back with his brisk and eager movements. He shoved the pants down his legs, boxers sliding down right along with them, and kicked them off his feet.
He didn’t care about doing it properly and immediately drew her close to him when he heard the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. She laughed against his mouth, reached down between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock. 
He cursed softly against her mouth, grabbed her hips roughly and moved her hastily onto her back. It didn’t stop her from playing with him, teasing him by rubbing the hot and hard length of him through her folds. When she made a ring with her forefinger and thumb, he roughly sank his teeth into her shoulder and groaned loudly, freezing at the overwhelming pleasure of her fingers tightening around him and moving upwards in precise twists.
“Goddamnit,” he hissed, “shouldn’t have… told you I like—ah, shit!” He jolted, bucking his hips involuntarily when she started to massage underneath the head of his cock, nearly losing himself and nearly giving into the threat of his orgasm. “No.. wait,” he whined, weakly stopping her with his hands around her wrist.
“You sound so fucking hot when I do that,” she chuckled, “you know I can’t help myself, Dean.” Still, she let go of him and licked her fingers clean of the precum that coated them. 
“I have something in mind,” he started suggestively, placing a rough kiss on her lips. She hummed softly and sucked on his lip, watching him move down her body with his lips and hands. He pulled away from her completely and positioned himself in the centre of the bed, patting the spot between his legs. 
“You and your slutty little imagination,” she teased, crawling up to him. She parted his thighs, kissed along the inside of his soft—slightly scarred—skin and licked up a stripe of the underside of his cock. He groaned, reaching out for her arm when she twirled her tongue around the leaking tip, sucking gently on the soft head. 
“Enough of that, beautiful,” he murmured, tugging her upwards by her arm and away from his dick. She pouted, letting go of his cock with a loud and obscenely wet pop that made him groan. “Lean back,” he instructed delicately, licking his lips when she brushed her wet lips against his teasingly. 
With a small ‘okay’, she complied, leaning back with her hands flat behind her on the bed, her two thighs resting on either side of him. “Now, what?” Dean wrapped his hands around her knees instead of replying, and started to bend them upwards. She wiggled around slightly, moving with him and bit her lip when he slid his hands beneath her knees to hold her waist. 
One of his hands migrated from her waist to wrap around his cock, guiding himself slowly and teasingly through her folds. She became flustered, staring at him with her knees bent over his forearms.
“This is…” she trailed off, cheeks red and heart beating wildly behind the cage of her ribs. 
“Very hot,” Dean finished for her. He let go of his cock just to reach over to the bedside table where his phone was resting. She looked curious at him, thinking maybe he’d check on Sam before they got started, but instead he opened the camera and swiped until he was on the video recording section. “Is this okay, babe?” He asked, gazing back into her eyes, his thumb hovering over the red button. 
“Yeah, D.” She nodded, chewing shyly on her lips. “Do you have way more videos of us fucking than of us doing.. ya know, cute romantic shit?” She asked, not caring that he was already recording. He scoffed, positioning the camera to capture her dripping folds, her breasts, and the bottom half of her face rather than his body.
“This is romantic,” he told her matter-of-factly. 
“Mm, yeah.. right,” she snickered and lifted herself up using the strength of her arms so she could then lower herself on his cock. 
“You don’t think so?” He grunted, watching lewdly as he stretched her pussy open, slowly disappearing inside her warmth. “I think it’s pretty romantic, watchin’ videos of how I fucked you… jerking off to them when I miss you. Listening to how needy and desperate you get for me when you’re about to come…” He explained explicitly, holding her waist tightly, when their hips met completely. 
“It’s not just about the sex, baby,” he added, gazing into her eyes. She bit her lip and slowly started to lift herself back up again. “It’s about how it makes me feel. How you make me feel. It’s about time. Makin’ you mine, givin’ myself to you, lovin’ you, you lovin’ me in return, us.. being vulnerable.” She squeezed around him tightly and sank back down, her gaze soft. “It’s romantic that there’s no adios afterward, nothin’ for us to hide from each other during, just you and me barin’ our souls to one another… it’s about us.” He pulled her even closer just to kiss her passionately. Her thighs were practically pressed against the front of her body, somehow he managed to sink deeper into her, and he rocked his hips upwards so her clit brushed against his pelvic bone.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, moving one arm to wrap her arm around his neck instead. He smiled against her mouth, and blindly set the phone down on the nightstand, skilfully getting enough in the shot without much fumbling. 
“C’mon, baby, you said you needed to come…” he whispered against her jawline, “so make yourself cum.” Dutifully, she began moving a little faster, trying to find a perfect cadence in this new position. 
He mouthed at the skin of her neck and chest that he could reach, careful to leave very light marks so she could wear that sexy little dress again, and let her take control of everything. Almost immediately, she was able to move at the perfect pace, towards her orgasm and his.
Gasps and grunts, moaning and groaning, they held onto each other trying to bring each other toward their orgasms unhurriedly. She tipped her head back and tried to pull him impossibly close. With the impact of their hips, her clit was stimulated with a pleasant grind of his hips moving upwards, and this time, rather than doing what they always did—slowing down when they were close to extend the proximity of their organs, increasing the intensity of it—he breathily encouraged her to keep going. 
He mindlessly praised her and confessed his love like he always did when he was close, meeting her thrusts far gentler than she was. Still, with one hand behind her and the other in his hair, she tugged on the hairs at the top of his head hard enough to make him moan loudly. His bruising grip on her waist didn’t let up, and his blunt nails dug into her back, waiting for her to cum before he could.
A few more strokes of his cock against her g-spot had her walls pulsing around him, gasping and panting his name, and pressing her forehead against his shoulder as her orgasm finally crashed over her. 
She dropped kisses along his shoulder and neck, shuddering from her orgasm, and with a loud grunt of her name, Dean came inside of her. Slowly, they stopped moving and tried to catch their breaths while holding each other closely. She played with his hair and he soothed her bruised waist with calloused palms, then leaned forward all the way until she was laying on her back to kiss her face lovingly.
“Porn worthy?” She teased quietly, resting her hands on his waist waiting as he made a cute path along her face with kisses to reach her lips.
“I could go a second round,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, still buried deep inside her. She groaned softly and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to keep moving, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss anything vulgar he was about to say. 
Dean froze above her when he heard footsteps from outside their hotel room, pleading internally that it was random people passing by, but deflated when he heard Sam speak to Donna. “…I hope they found something.” 
“Shit!” Y/n whispered, trying to push Dean off her when the doorknob began to rattle, but Dean didn’t budge, knowing it was no use and wanting to use his body as a shield. 
“Well, the jig is up,” he joked, watching her throw her arms over her chest instead, glaring at him half-heartedly. 
“Dean, your phone!” She reminded him, but Dean shrugged just as Sam swung the door open and stopped mid-sentence with Donna exclaiming some sort of phrase in surprise. Y/n would have laughed at whatever it was she said—Donna’s refusal to actually say a swear word—but she just groaned in annoyance.
“Seriously, guys? Every time!” Sam shouted, apologising to Donna quietly who brushed it off with a quiet ‘it’s okay’. 
Donna sneaked one tiny glimpse at the naked couple just as Sam turned around for them to get dressed. Dean smirked smugly and winked at Donna, then looked away to watch as he pulled out of his girlfriend, their cum spilling out of her. His cock was hard again and Y/n shook her head, waiting for Dean to get the phone and get moving.
“You do realise that it could've been Taweret making you guys…” Sam scolded, filling the silence up as Dean gathered their clothes. Donna blushed and turned around as well, grateful that Sam didn’t mention her hesitation in turning around sooner. 
“Uh,” Y/n stammered, pulling her clothes on when Dean handed it to her. 
“You have a point, Sammy, but we usually do this, anyway, so…” Dean spoke up, giving Y/n a hand so she could stand on slightly shaky legs beside him. “‘sides, I did find something…” Dean announced, pointing to his laptop on the table. With a hard slap on Y/n’s ass, Dean walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up, grasping her small hand with his to bring her with him. 
“Sorry,” Y/n laughed, apologetically bowing her head before following Dean to get herself cleaned up as well. As she walked, she could feel Dean’s cum drip out of her, her panties wet and cool between her legs made her uncomfortable but she kept them on, washing her hands with Dean standing next to her doing the same.
“Well, they’re still cute,” Donna said brightly, trying to brighten Sam’s sour mood, but it only worsened when he opened Dean’s laptop and the open tab was a sex page with a list of positions to try. 
“Seriously, Dean? Close the damn tabs!” 
“Whoops,” Dean snickered, gazing at Y/n who only rolled her eyes at him, affectionately smiling. “Gonna play this video real loud tonight,” he whispered with a grin, shaking his phone in his hand, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. 
“That’s really funny, but no,” she chuckled, bringing him down for a soft kiss when he pouted at her childishly. 
Tumblr media
taglist
@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias @kezibear @kaleldobrev @iwishiwasntreal @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @littlemadamred @xshortputax @il0vebeingdelulu @isadumbass @wandamaximofenthusiast @take-it-on-the-run @impala1967rollingthroughtown @pasteldecrack @imsapphine @gravesphillip @illicithallways @saturnsooya
or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications
Tumblr media
main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
Tumblr media
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
638 notes · View notes
sunkissedpages · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
match his freak
pairing: art donaldson x f reader
a/n: (reader is basically tashi but i wanted people to be able to insert themselves so it can be read either way)
summary: your husband's attempt at getting you to stay in bed with him
warnings: alcohol mentions, patrick mentions, martial issues lol, smut (18+ ; mdni)
smut warnings: he's a biter, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 2.2k
“Your alarm has been going off for seven minutes.”
“Why haven’t you turned it off?”
“Because it’s supposed to get you up, not me. Come on, we have to get going.”
Art groans and rolls away from you. “Can’t we cancel this morning?”
You sigh. “You say that every morning.”
“I mean it this time,” he whines, catching you by the wrist before you can get out of bed. “The sun isn’t even up yet. Let’s sleep in. I’m tired.”
“You have to train. You’re not going to get any better if you don’t.”
“Who says I have to get better? I’m already ranked number one.”
“You won’t be for long if you keep playing like you have been,” you point out, “now get up.”
You expect your husband to release his grip, to acquiesce like he always does but he doesn’t, instead using his strength to overpower you and pull you on top of him. You scoff. He still doesn’t let go, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold your body to his. 
He kisses your jaw, your neck, nudges the strap of your tank top with his nose until it’s dangling off your shoulder and then he kisses you there too before sinking his teeth into the same spot his lips had just touched. 
You barely react, your own exhaustion threatening to break your resolve. 
“Stay in bed with me, baby,” Art urges, hands sliding down to your ass. His thumb rubs familiar circles over your panties. There’s no real intention behind the motion, not yet. He just loves your ass.
“Art...”
“There’s nothing I can do to convince you?” he asks. 
“We don’t have time.”
“We can make time. They work for us.”
You press your forehead to his and sigh. A surrender. Art inhales you, craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 
“Can’t you feel how much I want you?” he whispers as he pushes his hips into yours. 
“You just woke up. Of course you’re going to be hard.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
“What happened to sleeping in?”
“I changed my mind.”
Art shifts to get a knee between your legs, parting them with it so that he can press his thigh up against you. You know he can feel the heat of you through your panties. It’s no use pretending like he can’t. 
“It’s been so long, baby,” he groans as he goes back to kissing his way down your neck. 
“You fucked me last week,” you point out, even though you’ve started grinding on his thigh. You always have to have the last word. 
“That doesn’t count,” he pants, “it was just a quickie in the bathroom of a hotel lobby. You didn’t even take your dress off.”
Your husband is right. You don’t have sex as often as you want to, as often as either of you want to. Even last week was a fluke. That night was the first time you’d fucked in almost a month, and neither of you had been expecting it to happen in the first place. It was simply a byproduct of too much wine and simmering tension that culminated in a guilt-laden exchange of pleasure- rushed and desperate, devoid of romance. It was like you were strangers to each other, not spouses. 
You feel your husband’s wedding band, cool against your skin, secure around his ring finger as his hands continue to roam your body. He rarely ever takes it off if he has a choice, insistent on wearing it in the shower and to bed most nights. You think it might be due to the fact that he doesn’t get to wear it during matches or practices since it’s against the rules (for safety reasons) so he feels like he has to make up for the time he spends without it. 
“Is that a yes?” Art asks, pulling your attention back to himself. “You’ll stay in bed with me?”
“Just this once. And we’re getting up as soon as we’re done here.”
He grins victoriously and uses the leverage he has to flip you over so that you’re underneath him. 
“I love you.”
Your smile is a little more forced but you return the sentiment as you cup his face with your palm. “Love you too.”
Your husband kisses you again, this time trapping your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently, not applying enough pressure to bruise, but enough to leave indents. He seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth as soon as it presents itself and grinds down into you when you moan his name breathily in response. 
He knows your body better than anyone, knows how to get you to do exactly what he wants, which is why he snakes a hand down between your legs and starts to play with you over your panties to make you want him even more. 
“Soaked through these already,” he murmurs, “guess I’m not the only needy one.”
“Stop wasting time,” you mutter impatiently, swatting his hand away so that you can take your underwear off yourself. “We have places to be.”
Art clicks his tongue at you but keeps his thoughts to himself. He shuffles down the mattress until his face is level with your pussy. He swallows thickly and raises his gaze to meet your eyes, silently asking permission. 
You grant it to him with a curt nod and prop yourself up on your elbows so that you’re able to watch him bury his face in you. 
He does, but not before gently kissing the crux of your hip as a thank you. Your hands are in his hair before his tongue is on your cunt. He uses his hands to hold your hips down as you try to grind them into his face, easily overpowering you despite your effort. 
Your husband has always been obsessed with the taste of you. You still remember him making some offhand comment when you first started dating about how he couldn’t believe Patrick never told him how good you tasted. He seemed to realize what he said as soon as he said it, eyes growing wide as he sputtered out an explanation that you brushed off with a scoff and a hand on the back of his neck to push him back down between your legs. 
You never told him, but it turned you on to know that they talked about you like that behind your back, especially since it confirmed just how into you your husband had always been. 
And even after all of these years, Art will still spend hours eating you out if you let him. He used to get on his knees in the locker room and beg you to hike a leg over his shoulder to let him make you cum on his face before every single one of his matches, claiming that it helped calm his nerves or that it was for good luck or something like that. You would still be able to taste yourself on his lips when he kissed you for the cameras after winning whatever title he was playing for. 
You don’t know when that stopped but you do know he doesn’t play as well as he used to back then. Whether or not the two things were correlated, there’s no way to tell. 
“So sweet,” Art groans in between licks to your clit, “been too fucking long.”
You can only moan in agreement as your husband grinds against the mattress. You know he wants to take his time with you but you’re impatient. You’re already getting a late start to the day and watching Art lose himself in the taste of you is only making you want him more. 
“Art, baby?’ you ask, loosening the grip you have on his hair to thread your fingers through it gently.
He raises his head with a reluctant whine. “Hm?” 
“Can you fuck me now?”
“But you haven’t-”
“I know. I just really, really want your dick right now.”
He pouts at you, almost tugging himself out of your grasp just so he can go back to eating you out but you stop him with a hand under his chin. 
“Baby,” he whimpers, “let me finish you off.”
“You can, with your dick.” 
“Fine,” he sighs, shimmying out of his boxers.
You scoff. “Acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your wife when you’re the one who was begging me to fuck you.”
“I do want to fuck you, baby, you know I do. You just taste so good when you cum in my mouth.”
“If you make this quick, I’ll sit on your face and you can eat your cum out of me.”
A shudder rolls through your husband. You feel his cock twitch against your thigh. 
“I love you,” he moans. 
“You said that already.”
It's Art's turn to scoff. “Oh, have I met my quota or something?” He hoists your thighs around his waist as he lines himself up, grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed to put under your back. “C’mere.”
You arch your back to let him push it underneath you, taking a deep breath as he slides home. You stretch around him easily but still wince when he meets the end of you, his hips pressed flush to yours. 
“God, yes,” you moan, locking your ankles behind his back almost immediately. 
He takes a moment to let you adjust and gather himself before starting to move. When he does, it’s at an agonizingly slow pace. He can’t pull out very far with your legs wrapped around him like that anyway but even so, you can tell he's doing his best to hold back.
You smack his ass to try and spur him on but it only makes him bite down on your shoulder in retaliation. 
“Always so impatient,” he scolds. 
“We’re on a schedule,” you remind him. “Unless you don’t want me to sit on your face after this-”
Art groans but gives in, fucking you harder and faster until you can’t even form coherent thoughts to offer any more opinions. Your husband had always been good at taking direction but he was even better at fucking you stupid. It’s part of why your marriage has lasted this long. 
“Feel good?” he asks, fully aware of the fact that you’re too gone to answer. “This what you wanted, huh?”
All you can do is whimper in response. He kisses you, swallowing the noise. Your hands fly to his back, manicured nails digging into his shoulder blades as you anchor yourself to him. 
“Harder,” he grunts. 
You oblige, pressing your nails further into him until he gasps in pleasure. You’re careful not to puncture his skin as you scratch up his back, knowing the marks you’re leaving now will raise enough eyebrows from his trainers as it is. 
It isn’t long before he’s practically trembling on top of you, jaw clenched in concentration and restraint as he focuses on getting you to the edge first. 
Being a professional athlete has afforded your husband plenty of advantages in bed: strong hips, great breath control, insane stamina... but none of that matters when it’s you he’s in bed with. You’re his weakness in every sense of the word. 
“Fuck, I’m close,” he shakily admits. “Please tell me you’re close too.”
You are, thank god. He’s hitting that spot, the one that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, over and over and over and you just need a little more to fully come apart all over him. 
“Cum for me, baby,” he begs, “need you to go first, come on.”
Ultimately, the begging is what does it. Something about the desperation in his voice always gets you off. 
You cum with a sob of his name, squeezing him so tight that he can hardly pull out to fuck you through it. Feeling you clench around him is what does it for him too, though, and he barely chokes out a warning before he’s cumming inside of you, muscles going taut then relaxing as it washes over him. 
After the aftershocks pass, he rolls off of you with a sigh, sounding both relieved and exhausted. You turn onto your side and snuggle up to him, surprising both him and yourself.  He gives you a questioning look but doesn’t say anything as he accepts you into his arms and tucks you by his side. You lay there together for a moment and listen to each other breathe, enjoying a slower morning for the first time in a long time. 
The sun is fully up now and you can even hear the world bustling around at street level below your apartment. You and Art were supposed to be well into your day by now but you’re still in bed, albeit very awake. 
You tell yourself that you’ll get up, that you’ll make Art get up in just a few more minutes but he beats you to the punch, getting your attention by clearing his throat and putting on a very serious expression. 
“So is sitting on my face still on the table?”
1K notes · View notes
raribella · 8 months
Text
Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank
summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.
pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader
genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end
contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.
word count: 2,7k
author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.
“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”
the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.
But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.
To his bullshit.
Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.
You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.
Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.
“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”
Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.
“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“
As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.
Tumblr media
You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.
You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.
You were bottled up to the brim.
Tumblr media
It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.
"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”
“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-
“Y/n, listen to me!”
You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.
“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”
it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.
You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.
“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”
At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.
“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“
“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”
You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.
“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”
Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.
“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.
“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”
JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.
“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“
You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.
“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“
As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“
“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.
“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”
As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.
“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”
And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.
“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.
“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.
“First thing in the morning.” You answered.
633 notes · View notes
ericshoney · 3 months
Text
Mean Prank ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets
Tumblr media
Summary: Your brothers ask you to be in a car video, only to prank you by being really mean.
Warnings: Usual swearing, being mean (for the prank), crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston for a while, which you were very happy about. They were there to help you with some school work and let you rant about stuff they would understand more than your parents. They were also there for you to joke around with.
Which resulted in a small prank war.
It started with you and Chris pranking Nick whilst he was asleep. You both put fake birds around his bedroom, much like the one Matt and Chris pranked him with in their earlier YouTube career.
Nick was pissed, so he wanted to get you back. This continued until all of you had something against the other. That was until you pranked all three of them at once. The guys then stepped up their game.
"So what's the prank?" Chris asked.
"We're gonna pretend to film a car video, she's been wanting to do one for a while, but we're going to be really mean to her to see how she reacts." Nick replied, reminding him on the prank.
"Will she get upset?" Matt questioned.
"We'll see if she notices it's a prank or not. If it goes too far we'll stop." Nick answered.
Matt and Chris both nodded as Nick went to find you. All of you then headed to the car, going to the guys usual car park to start the prank. You sat on your phone for a bit while they set up the camera and whilst you were distracted, it gave them the chance to start.
"Kid, get off your phone it's so rude." Chris started.
"I was waiting till we started to film." You mentioned, placing your phone down.
"The camera is all set." Matt said.
You nodded as Nick intro the video, you gave a small wave as he said you were here and what the topic was about.
"Today we have our little sister Y/n here! And today's topic, yes there is a topic, is about sibling fights and disagreements." He said.
"Will be fun." You said.
"Yeah cause you caused most of them." Matt mumbled.
"What?" You called.
"Well your the youngest, always thinking you can get your own way." He responded.
"Fuck off." You grumbled, a small smile on your face, thinking he was joking. Which he was, but held the laugh in for the prank.
"I remember when this motherfucker was born. I had a day planned with mum and she had to ruin it by being born early." Nick mentioned.
"You remember that one time she broke a Wii remote and tried to blame Trevor?" Chris called.
"Or that one time she stole your favourite hoodie and blamed Justin." Matt added.
"What is this, pick on Y/n video?" You called.
"Shut up." Nick replied.
The guys continued, their comments getting ruder and meaner. What broke you was Chris throwing an empty Pepsi can in the back, which hit your shoulder. You sighed and got out the car, walking across the car park.
"Kid get back in the car!" Matt shouted.
"No! Fuck off!" You shouted back.
The three shared a look, whilst also watching you. They noticed how you just went and sat by the store which was closed.
"We better tell her it's a prank." Chris said, making his brothers nod.
The three of them got out and came over to you quickly, Matt holding the camera. As they got closer, they noticed you were crying, but as you saw the camera, you covered it up.
"Sweetheart, it was a prank." Nick said softly.
"Real funny." You muttered.
"We're sorry kid, it's supposed to be a harmless prank. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings, we love you so much." Matt said.
“Why say all that stuff?” You asked quietly.
“We didn’t mean it, bub. It was all for a prank. We’re so sorry.” Chris said.
“We’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow we’ll take you out all day and do whatever you want, deal?” Nick suggested, holding his hand out. You smiled a bit and nodded, shaking his hand.
The guys smiled as they ended the video and you all went back to the car. Each of them saying sorry for the bad prank and knew they had to make it up to you.
266 notes · View notes
sgojoenthusiast · 1 year
Text
clingy.
✧.* gojo satoru x reader
summary:
gojo can't stand when he's away from you and you're not here to help him out.
cw: not proof read!!!, gojo is VERY clingy & slightly obsessed w reader (who wouldn't be???), nsfw, fluff if you squint, smut, use of 'baby', fem reader, dry humping, nudes, degradation & humiliation, penetration, not much prep tbh, crying, teasing, choking, dom reader/ sub gojo.
word count: 1.8k
likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
-`♡´-
Gojo can't handle being away from you. Not just because he misses your smile, your voice, making you laugh, watching movies with you or even just sitting in silence with you. Because yes, he does miss that stuff, but also because ever since being with you, no fist or toy could possibly get him off like you do.
Sure, if he tried, he definitely could get himself off. But, he refuses. Only you can make him feel good, and he is set on that fact.
The feeling of knowing that it's your hand. He's under your control. It stimulates him in a way no one else could because, simply enough, they weren't you. They didn't have your delicate hands yet harsh grip. They didn't have a voice like honey or skin like heaven.
So, when one of you are away for a mission, he’d call you every night, begging for you to help him. He's explained to you so many times how much he struggles to be away from you during times like this, yet you never quite understand him.
However, on this date specifically, you had made plans with your friends to go to a restaurant and catch up. You had only planned to stay out for a few hours and stupidly thought Gojo would be fine by himself.
1 new notification. 2 new notifications. 5 new notifications. 11 new notificati-
"Hey do you wanna get that? It seems important." one of your friends said, as you scrambled to silence your phone.
"It's fine, it's just Satoru. He's probably wondering what he's supposed to eat tonight or something. He can wait a few hours."
Attachment: 3 images.
You didn't think much of it, often he would send you photos of his face along with a message similar to "look at what you're missing babe???"
What you didn't expect, was a picture of a very prominent bulge in his sweatpants, his hand palming it. The two after that, showed his hardened cock in his hand, precum dripping down it as his thumb ran over his swollen tip.
You immediately turned your phone off and looked to the side of you to check your friend hadn't seen the image. Luckily, she was immersed in a conversation with your friends sitting opposite you.
You took a shaky deep breath, and reopened your phone to check what the other eleven messages were.
"babyyyy:(( wya?? i'm so lonely" "fuckfuckfuck just saw the vid you took of us last night baby. come home." and then several other messages along the lines of him begging you to answer him, and all the stuff he wanted to do to you. Of course, by the looks of things and how pissed you were at him spamming you messages like this, you'd be doing most of the controlling tonight.
Incoming call from Toru<3
Your friends looked at you with concern. Your shaky breaths were doing nothing to help portray a collected composure. “Sorry- I'm just gonna take this real quick." Each of them gave you an understanding look as you walked out to the back, where no one could see or hear you before you answered his call.
"Gojo, I am so unbelievably pissed off at you right now, don't even try to pretend you have no clue where I am 'cause you know damn well it's right there in the fucking calendar."
Heavy panting and strained whines was the only response you got for a solid five seconds before he replied with desperate moans and pleas.
“I can’t- I just can't on my own! It's not enough, I need you pleaseee-“
"'Toru, I'm out with my friends! I'll be home in like three hours, can't you just wait--"
"Three hours?!" he gasped dramatically. To anyone else, they would have thought he was bleeding out from his whines, cries and the way he was pleading you to leave like his life depended on it.
"Yes, Satoru, three hours." you looked around, seeing if there was anyone listening in nearby before continuing. "Satoru, you can either wait three hours like a good boy, and I'll let you come when I come home. Or, you can continue calling me whilst I'm out with my friends and I won't let you come for a week. Fuck that, i wont even fucking touch you for a week. Now, which is it, Gojo?"
With the combination of you using his last name and your terrifying threat, his eyes widened as he mumbled out a quick apology and immediately hung up. He craved you from a distance yet waited excitedly in anticipation for the night’s upcoming events.
Whilst you knew your threat was harsh, you also knew it was a completely empty one. Because, despite your annoyed tone, hearing Gojo whine on the other side of the phone had you pressing your legs together and biting your lip. Not even you could spend an entire week without touching him once.
However, it did the trick. For the entirety of the time you spend out with your friends, you didn't receive a single notification with his name on it (you just know he's saved at least twenty videos so he can show them to you whilst you're cuddling later). It was as if he's erased himself completely or destroyed his phone just to secure being able to feel you against him later.
Exactly three hours after your call, he waited patiently on the sofa, his leg bouncing up and down eagerly. He glanced at the clock maybe seven or eight times before he heard your keys in the door.
As you walked in, you barely had time to take off your coat and hang it up before Satoru's lips were on yours with a fervent intensity. His hands clung to your body desperately, attempting pathetically to get your clothes off before you pushed him onto the sofa.
"Patience, Satoru. You were being so naughty earlier." he looked up at you with wide eyes.
"But I didn't message or call you once!" he pleaded.
Gently, you cupped his face in your palm, running your thumb along his cheek. "I know, baby." you mocked.
Suddenly, Gojo grabbed you by the waist, pulling you on top of him. "You told me- hahh- I could- c-cum" he muttered, grinding his clothed dick against you helplessly. Your hand reached behind his head as you grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hardly.
"Fuck- why would I let you cum after pulling shit like this, huh? Shit-" you moaned at the feeling of him rutting against you.
"Cause I'm, fuuckk, not letting you go-" he mumbled into your shoulder as he continued to thrust himself against you.
"Wouldn't you rather come inside me, baby? Hmm? You look fucking pathetic right now," you laughed, tauntingly. "Seriously, aren't you embarrassed, Gojo? Humping me like a fucking dog. You've got no control over this pathetic dick, do you? You're just some slut desperate for attention."
He stopped moving at your degrading words as he buried himself in your shoulder. You smiled at your victory, as you commanded him to lay back on the sofa and take his clothes off. You did the same, as you straddled his lap whilst he looked up at you in awe.
"Pleasepleaseplease- I've needed this all fucking day." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into your own.
You grabbed his dick carefully, stroking it slowly and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He moaned at the feeling of your hands, begging you without shame just to put it in and fuck him like he deserves.
However, your malicious teasing never relented, as you continued to give him very light touches, and very occasionally a small lick from between his legs.
He lay in front of you, heaving breathlessly as his mindless babbles grew into ridiculous moans and incoherent begs. His hair was splayed over his forehead and stuck to him because of the sweat, but never had you seen a more beautiful display as his chest rose up and down. His lips were closed in a slight pout, and his eyes were half shut from the constant edging, his arm covering them slightly.
However, his eyes immediately flew open and his hand grabbed desperately onto the sofa when you shifted your position to directly above his dick.
You sink down slowly, the pain fading loosely into pleasure over time. You moved your hips up and down slowly, as he gripped tightly onto your waist, urging you to go faster when you could.
Soon, you were bouncing on him relentlessly as his moans and whines intertwined with your own like your fingers which slid up his body to weave into his.
You leaned down, taking his lips into a passionate kiss, silencing the sounds of his thoughtless moans.
His mind was blank with pleasure, the only image was your pussy sliding up and down his dick. He untangled your hands as he ran them up your body and towards your breasts, grabbing and flicking your nipples - trying to make you feel even a fraction of the heaven he was experiencing.
One of his hands trailed down towards your pussy as he began to rub your clit. You gasped at the feeling, one of your hands flying straight to his throat as you squeezed tightly.
Before realising what you had done, you felt Satoru cum immediately inside of you, both his hands moving to grab onto your thighs as he reached his high.
As he lay beneath you, panting, you tilted your head at him curiously with a slight smirk on your lips which screamed "oh?". His face flushed with embarrassment. One, at the fact he had just came without you, and two at the fact that all it took was for you to choke him just a little bit for him to come immediately.
Before you had realised he liked your hands around his neck, you had retracted them, placing them on his chest. You grinned deviously as your hands began to slide up his body, a finger stopping to tilt his chin up so he was making direct eye contact with you, before continuing to wrap your hand around his neck. He groaned lowly at the connection, yet the sharp feeling of being overstimulated took over as you lifted your lips up before slamming them down ruthlessly.
He threw his head back and whined loudly, bucking his hips up into yours. "Cant take it anymore-- fuuuckkk!"
"Hmm? But you were the one who asked me if you could come? I'm giving you what you want, aren't I? Stupid, spoiled brat." you continued to move your hips up and down his cock, knowing if he really wanted you to stop, he'd say the safe word. "Plus, I haven't come yet. You're not gonna be a selfish brat too, are you? Don't you wanna make me come?"
He nodded his head incessantly. "Wanna make you come too..." he panted out breathlessly, bucking his hips up into you and moving his hand back down to your clit.
You continued like that for what felt like hours. He wasn't sure how many times he came, yet one thing was certain, and that was no matter how many hours you spent fucking him so roughly, he still hadn't had enough of your touch as you lay in bed during the dark hours of the night with his head by your chest as he showed you all the funny videos he couldn't send you earlier.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
☾ ⋆・゚:⋆・゚sgojoenthusiast
3K notes · View notes
danveration · 8 months
Note
I have a Alastor × fem!reader request. Imma be real with you, I own an Alastor stuffie and for the longest time I wondered, 'What if it morphed into the actual Alastor while I cuddled it?". I know, odd but I think it could possibly be a cute idea? (in the verse Hazbin is still a show, this fic takes place irl)
OH MT GOSH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHH!!! i’ve got to get me an Alastor stuffie too.. If only this would happen irl 💔❤️❤️ i hope this is what you wanted/had in mind :’)
Parings: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: You have a Alastor stuffie and you cuddle it. And it…. turns into the real Alastor?!?!
You have a favourite character from the show Hazbin Hotel, by favourite, you mean FAVOURITE. His name is Alastor, the radio demon. You’ve had a stuffie of him for the longest time, it’s always brought you comfort and it felt good to have a sort of physical version of him. Plus, it’s so cute:)
You’re currently sitting in bed, when you grab your Alastor stuffed animal and hug it. Shockingly, you feel it sort of vibrating. You look down at it and see that there’s shadowy smoke coming from it. You gasp and let go of it.
You’re wondering what on earth is going on, when something that you would’ve NEVER thought to happen, it morphed into THE Alastor from the show.
You think you’re dreaming so you do what everyone does, pinch yourself.
“Shit.” You mumble. Definitely not sleeping, that hurt like a bitch.
You look to your side and you see him laying there, looking confused, but smiling.
He looks around and his eyes land on you.
You’re sitting there in shock, unable to say anything.
Alastor hasn’t ever had this happen to him before, where he unwillingly got teleported. He usually just teleports using his shadow magic. He’s very puzzled on what happened.
As he looks to see you, you’re most obviously alive, and human. He doesn’t know anyone in hell that looks like you, and he knows almost everyone. Is he.. back on earth?
You two are just staring at each other in equal confusion.
He looks over you and sees a “Hazbin Hotel” poster on the wall and raises his brow in confusion even more.
“Who might you be?” He asks.
Your brain is short-circuiting but you manage to stumble out you name. “I-I’m Y/n.”
“I see.. now do you have any idea what I’m doing here?” He asks you.
“No, I don’t.” You shake your head. “I was just cuddling my stuffie of y-“ You stop yourself and refrain from telling him exactly who the stuffie was resembling.
“..Of something. And you just.. appeared!” You say.
“Hm. Now that’s quite the mystery then, isn’t it?” He says. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you then, Y/n. Though the circumstances are quite outlandish. The name is-“
“Alastor.” You whisper out, still in a state of:“wowmyfavoritecharacterfromatvshowjustappearedinmybed.”
Alastor tilts his head and says with confusion in his voice, “Precisely..”
He moves to get up off your bed and stand up, looking around your room. He notices a picture of him on your dresser and he looks back at you with a raised brow.
“Um.. I can explain-“ You start. “You’re not.. real. Well, you’re real because you’re here right now but- You.. You’re not real in this world. Um.. You-“ You ramble on and he stops you.
“I understand.” He says with a smile.
“You.. understand?”
“Ah, yes! I am the radio demon after all. I must be aware that other universes exist. It seems something happened and I was quite literally spawned here.” He explains. “Usually I’ve only heard this happening if it was a vessel of the person, like.. let’s say.. a statue. But it seems there’s no statue of myself in this room?” He laughs.
This makes some sense now. The stuffie must apply to these rules.
“Oh um. I think I know what happened..” You say.
He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Well?”
“So um.. I have a stuffied animal of you.” You say in a low tone, your cheeks reddening.
“What was that, dear?” He asks.
“I have a stuffie of you..” You say.
“A..” He starts. “A stuffie? Of me? Now why would you have that?” He laughs.
“I.. for comfort?” You answer, hoping he isn’t too weirded out.
“Comfort? Well that’s a delightful!” He says in amused tone.
“Yeah um.. you’re basically a fictional character in this world.” You say.
“A fictional character?” He asks.
“Mhm.” You answer.
“I see..” He looks as if he’s trying to piece together everything. “Well, my dear! I’m not quite sure on what exactly is going on. But I assume it’s only momentary. Maybe a glitch in the system or something.” He laughs.
“Y-you..” It’s finally setting in that Alastor is in your room.
“I?” He asks with a smile.
“I LOVE YOU.” You blurt out suddenly without thinking.
Alastor jumps a bit at that and steps backwards, his eyes wide.
“S-sorry. I just.. I cant believe you’re here.” You say. “How did this even… THE Alastor is in my room.. He.. Oh my god..” You mumble on to yourself.
Alastor is a clever man, he knows that you must be a “fan” of his. He notices that he obviously doesn’t exist in your world. Though he finds your reaction quite adorable. Especially that you have a stuffie of him? You’re idolizing him? Out of all people? He’s charmed.
“Dear.. You alright there?” He asks you.
You look back up at him and smile.
“Very very alright, yes.” You answer.
———————————————————————
Suddenly, you bolt awake. It was just a dream..?
You sigh and shift on your side, still holding your Alastor stuffie. If only dreams were real.
As you fall asleep, you don’t notice but the stuffie begins to vibrate…
449 notes · View notes
2AM
Duke dennis x black!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: y/n being a streamer and being a part of a amp like her boyfriend duke, until in her stream she tries to do a cartwheel but her boyfriends pop up and starts laughing at her failed attempt, which became roasting to affectionate love.
You've been a part of amp for quite some time now. When you were younger, you always wanted to be a social media star, but people alas told you that your not gonna make it, but that didn't stop you from where you are today until you met kai, fanum, agent, Chris, duke, and Daviss and together you guys became one of the most popular YouTube group. And you love all of them like they were your own family.
Yeah, being the only girl in the group is kinda hard because there's niggas on the internet trolling, but you didn't give a fuck before they accepted you anyway, the more you got comfortable will all of them the more you loved all of them. You have a crush on Duke. You both were pretty close, and y'all both became best friends, and everyone in the group thought y'all was dating even if your fans thought y'all was dating, but it wasn't true.
You hide your feelings because you thought Duke would reject you or didn't like you until he made the first move and your relationship started from there. Y'all both were lucky to have each other, y'all would both come to each other streams, pranks, and all of that other stuff.
Your love language with him is roasting. People make it seem like y'all mean, but it ain't true both you just be joking with each other.
Tumblr media
You were streaming playing a horror game, you was tired as fuck, but you wanted to finish playing the game.
"Bruh, chat, I'm not gonna lie. I'm tired as fuck I've been playing this game for and hour, I've been trying to stay awake for y'all." Y/n said tiredly as she picked up her water drinking it as she looked at the chat.
"Bro, somebody in the chat told me to do a cartwheel to stay awake." Y/n laughed as she pushed her chair back and stood up.
"Yo chat, I ain't gonna lowkey don't know how to do a cartwheel, like I'm being so deadass, I'm not an athletic person, hold imma try for you guys." Y/n stands up as she pushes her chair farther away so she can have some room.
"Bro, I'm scared. What if I bust my ass!!" Y/n yelled as she looked back at the chat. Y/n raised both her hands as she placed both of them on the ground, trying to kick her legs up, but ended up falling on the ground.
"Shit, hold on chat. Let me try again, damn this shit is harder than I thought." Y/n got herself up as she tried to do another cartwheel. Y/n puts both her hands on the ground. As she tried to kick her legs up, she heard her door open.
"Aye, bae do you got my charg-" Duke was about to finish his sentence as he saw you trying to cartwheel he started busting out laughing, making you laugh as you got up.
"It's not funny, nigga. I'm trying to do a cartwheel. " y/n laughed, feeling embarrassed as Duke started laughing.
"Nah, that gotta be one of the worst cartwheels I've seen bruh you don't know how to do a cartwheel?" Duke said, still laughing, making fun of you.
"Shut the fuck up, nigga can you do a cartwheel?" Y/n said asking him as she was huffing and puffing form those failed attempt cartwheel.
"Yes, way much better than that, bro. Imagine not lifting yourself up." Duke said, laughing at you.
"Nigga, I know you talking you pushing 40 and you was in the back of the bus with rosa parks, with yo old ass." Y/n commented as she started laughing as the people in the chat start making fun of Duke going crazy.
"Oh, so that's how you gonna do me, for real." Duke said, smiling in disbelief as you roasted him.
"Yes, imma do you like, ayo chat spam 1987 in the chat, that's the year you was born at with you old ass." Y/n started laughing as everyone in the chart started spamming 1987 in the chat.
"Yeah, I got you on mute. You were serving in ww2 with yo old ass. " You still kept roasting as you both were facing each other as Duke started smiling at the smile that you melt.
Duke wasn't listening to anything you were saying while you were still roasting him. He was looking at your lips as he grabbed your waist and started kissing you. You were caught off guard by this, but you kissed him back. You broke this kiss as he looked back at you. "You so gorgeous, bae." Duke smiled at you as was still holding you close, as he was still holding your waist. "Aww, thank you, bae. I would say something nice about you, but you were making fun of me." Y/n teased.
"Damn, that's fair, I love you y/n" Duke said, genuinely looking at you with so much love in his eyes.
"I love you too," y/n responded as she kissed him on the lips. As Duke lifted your legs up, carrying you as laughed, he was yours, and you were his.
375 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 5 months
Text
Bounty
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @silverose365
Warnings: Fluff, Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Killing
Word Count: 1,386
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: When a bounty comes in, Cooper is intent on cashing in. The caps they were offering were worth it. How in the hell does she stay a head of him?
Tumblr media
The bounty that came in a little over an hour ago peaked The Ghoul’s interest. A very basic description of a female, but with a unique name; Kitten. Her real name was not known, or just not given. Although if it was known, that would have helped in finding her so maybe people just really did not know.
He waited around her last known location and watched the people move by. Cooper did not see anything out of the ordinary, but people were quick to offer up information to The Ghoul. Kitten was last seen heading west, towards Filly. He set out towards the city and kept an eye out for his target. Checking in different abandoned buildings for a clue, he found nothing.
The day trek to Filly meant he was getting there right as the sun set on the horizon and the lights lit up the city. Howard let his eyes rake over the crowd while people moved out of his way. Ducking into a shop was the hair of a familiar person. His target. The woman stayed in that shop for who knows how long, but Cooper was patient. He just waited for her to return, but when a second hour went by and she had yet to come out, he was starting to lose that patience.
“Hey, Ghoul!” The shopkeeper yelled, stepping out from the safety of his doors. Howard poked his head up and felt it was almost comical how people stopped at the call.
“Have a package for you.” Cooper made his way into the shop, with his spurs clinking, and ducked into where he found the girl he was hunting. A small box laid on the counter, and he examined it while the keeper eyes him wearily. Inside, there was a dozen vials of chems waiting for him. And a note that read;
~Must be a huge bounty to get you involved, Ghoulie. Enjoy your present.
He chuckled as he slipped the note and chems into his saddle bag and went to go leave through the back. There, Howard found her footprints and tracked them through the night. But eventually, sleep did call to him. So he tucked his hat over his eyes and laid down against a boulder he found alongside of the trail.
By month two, even Cooper was questioning his sanity. He had been tracking the target for a solid sixty days and was starting to purposefully hold himself back from capturing her. In the past eight weeks, The Ghoul had taken out two other people that wanted to collect on her bounty, only to be met with the big iron on his hip. And each time, the next day, he found a stash of chems along with a note.
~Thanks for keeping me safe Ghoulie.
~Love knowing I’ve got my own guardian ghoul watching over me from above.
Each time he tucked the notes in close to his chems as a reminder of what he was doing. A couple of times he got to catch a glimpse of her. Very few times though, as she somehow managed to stay a step ahead. Overtime, he thought of this less and less like an unruly and clever contract, but rather like a clever and interesting game to keep him sharp. More little gifts were left for him whenever he got close, or just because he “did not” catch up to her in town. In all honesty, this was the most fun he had in the last few years.
But the small time bounties were drying up, and hers just ket getting bigger and bigger. It was time to close this off, as much as that made Cooper upset to think about. It was just the next day, day sixty-one when he caught a definitive sight of her. Unlatching his rope, and tying a knot, he twirled it round and round before casting the lasso out. It landed snugly around her shoulders and yanked her to the ground. Dragging her in closer, Cooper was puzzled by her lack of fighting the rope off. once she was close enough, he stood over her, with her body in between his feet and her looking at him upside down.
“Damn cowpoke. You just don’t know when to quit.” She giggled, resting her hands against her chest in a leisurely pose.
“You are a real pain in the ass, you know?” Neither one made a move to leave where they were or to do anything about it. That alone made The Ghoul cautious about what she had up her sleeve.
“That’s a kinda mean thing to say when I’ve been leaving you presents and thank you chems along the way.” Sitting up, Cooper scooted away as if she was a wild animal. She slipped the rope up and over her head, before holding a hand out so that Howard could help her up. Ever the gentleman, he reached his own hand down and dragged her up to stand in front of him. She dusted herself off, but made no move to run or hurt him.
“Well, I do appreciate the hospitality darlin’. Although I do have to wonder, since you know who I am, and what I’m here to do. Why you let yourself get caught?” Cooper questioned, eyebrow bridge raising as he quirked one of them up.
“Oh ya know. Just bored.” She replied, looking around. Before Howard could reply, she took off to a house that was no longer occupied.
“You comin’ Ghoul?” Turning around, she only stared at him for a second before going back to the house. It was then that Cooper realized that the sun was setting on the horizon, and he would have to take shelter anyways for the coming night. He followed after her, grumbling the whole way through. It was not too much longer that they were sitting around a campfire sharing some meat skewers that she had snagged from the previous town about half a days walk from where they were.
“What did you do to get such a high bounty, Kitten?” Cooper asked, teeth dragging the meat off of the stick.
“Stole a bunch of caps from some rich bastards that were taxing their people to hell and back. Seventy-five percent of what they made they had to pay to these men. So I just took their money and gave it back to them. They didn’t take too kindly to that,” came her explanation. She was also enjoying the meat. After being on the run for so long, it was the most time she had taken for herself in well over two months.
“Like some sort of damn Robin Hood.” He chuckled, stopping only when she had a confused look on her face.
“Who’s Robin Hood?” Her question made Cooper take a moment before responding.
“Ain’t that some shit,” he grumbled, “Robin Hood was a theif for the people. He robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. Always on the run from the law and the king from which he stole.” Now it was Cooper’s time for an explanation. He watched how her eyes lit up at his mini story. They sat in silence after that for a while; the only sounds being the noises of the desert night and their eating.
“Hey,” she piped up, “what about us traveling together?”
“What the hell makes you think that’s a good idea, Kitten?” Cooper paused in between his pieces of meat to shoot her a ridiculous look.
“Well, you’ve been protecting me this whole time. And I can get you chems and RadAway faster and cheaper than you probably can cause I’m not a ghoul. It’d be perfect.” Now, she was excitedly staring at him over the fire.
“You drive a hard bargain there, sweetheart. What’s the catch?” He replied, finishing off his skewer.
“Forget about the bounty?” She asked hopefully, face scrunching together and voice going higher. Silence once more, but this time it was in thought. Howard thought through the pros and cons of each option; keeping her or turning her in.
“Alright, Kitten. We’ll stick together.” He concluded, watching her face light up in the warm orange light. As they dug in to more skewers, he was certain that he had made the right choice about this bounty.
202 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Paring: jeonghan x fem!reader
Requested: yes [Can you please write something angsty for prince DK? Or if this is too vague, what do you think about a bet au with Jeonghan?] [By anon]
Genre: angst, coworkers to lovers, fluff, fuckboy au, opposites au, bet au
Warning(s): misogyny, jeonghan is an asshole and so is seungcheol, [if you find more pls inform ]
Summary: Jeonghan had plans on never talking to the quite coworker they hired, but like doesn't always pan out the way we want to. But when you add money to the problem, plus both your feelings, you have the perfect recipe for disaster.
Word count: 5.2k
Other works
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.
a/n 2: i hope it was what you wanted, thanks for the ask btw!
Tumblr media
Everyone at the office knew that Jeonghan was a free spirit, he worked hard and partied even harder. He like living his life in the most happening way possible. Be it weekend trips, bike trips to the mountains or staying in the countryside for a week and working remote while enjoying the serenity that comes with it, he was down for anything.
Funnily enough he was referred to as the least energetic person in his friend group. So, one can imagine overzealous they normally were.
His work more often than not was impeccable, no one could fault him at all. The rising star of the corporate world they called him at the office. In his five years at the job the man had garnered more approval than anyone else.
He liked his life, and he would not trade it for anything else.
Now, unlike Jeonghan you resided on the other side of the spectrum. Your kind of life was pretty monotonous waking up before your alarm, making your bed, skipping meals, and surviving on coffee, reaching, and leaving work on the dot and crying while rewatching your favorite shows, was your kind of life. You like staying in during the weekends and cleaning up the mess you make in your living space during the weekdays and trying everything in your power to not upset your cat while doing so.
Its calm, chill, maybe a bit boring but it worked for you and brought you peace.
You were the newest recruit in your office and from the first day you captured the attention of most of your coworkers for your meticulous and polite words.
More often than not you refuse to talk to your coworkers ensuring that there stays a professional boundary between you all and if they would not catch onto your behavior, you would politely decline them.
Never that interested in networking, you refuse to talk to more people than you need to.
Jeonghan caught onto it pretty early, but why did it matter to him what you did, so like everyone else he went on his own way and simply chose to ignore you.
Ten months into your new job was when you first had a real conversation with the man. It was pretty late at night, both of you had to stay back for overtime. That was when you saw him struggling with his presentation for the next day’s meeting.
That day you broke the ‘no talking to my coworkers rule unless and until it’s very important’ rule.
“what’s the problem?” you politely asked the man.
“Oh, I am having slight problem with the numbers here,” the man replies looking visibly confused and surprised.
“If you want, I can help you out” you kindly stated as Jeonghan casually just turned his laptop towards you.
So, for the next one and half hours you both sat there and diligently worked on the presentation and by the end of it the material looked rather good and presentation worthy.
Looking extremely grateful the pretty man said, “I am so thankful you helped me out today, so why don’t I repay you by dropping you off at your house, it’s pretty late you know.”
Looking at your watch you politely replied, “no worries, plus if I rush a bit, I can catch the last bus home so please don’t bother.”
Jeonghan looked bummed at this, but he was obliged nonetheless as he knew you to be an introverted lady and he did not want to make you uncomfortable.
--
The next time you and Jeonghan had a conversation, was again at a night when you both were staying at the office over time. By this time, you have become pretty comfortable with each other, not enough to hold a conversation but enough to spare a quick nod and a smile while passing by each other’s cubicles.
He was done with the day’s work and was about to leave the office when he noticed you hunched over your laptop looking frustratingly at your screen which showed you an open excel sheet with infinite numbers.
Feeling like he owed you the help, Jeonghan strode towards you and calmly said “let me see.”
Jumping in shock you looked at him and replied, “oh no don’t bother I can figure it out you should go home it’s pretty late you know.”
Tsking at your reply he grabbed a chair to sit beside you while saying “it’s only fair, you helped me out so I should help you now.”
You let him, in actuality you needed that little help from him, the data entries were annoying you and you absolutely did not like it one bit.
Just like that time passed by again resulting in the clock to show that it was quarter past one by the time you both were done.
This time though Jeonghan shut down all your protests to go about his own way and your reluctance to inconvenience him with a simple “it’s pretty late and I won’t let you get followed by some creeps on the road plus the last bus is gone anyways so you are coming with me.”
On the way he stopped at a convenience store to get some dinner for you both and you devoured your ramen while chatting with him.
You both were pretty similar, in some cases for example you both had this extreme love for Legos that existed beyond measurable amounts, both of you loved your pets to death, albeit his was a rock and yours was a cat, but as he said “we don’t discriminate peoples pets here, they can have what they want to but given its legal and safe for the pet.”
On the other hand, Jeonghan liked you too, he was happy he could be the first one to break your shell to meet the real you and he was proud of this. It was close to an achievement for him.
--
“Han like this new chick in his office.”
Joshua loudly announced to the group of boys sprawled in his living room one evening. Jeonghan’s friends had come to his house to hang out and to get drunk out of their wits to forget the stress of the tedious weekend they had. They were all friends from college, now working jobs in the most contrasting industries ever like Seungcheol was the manager for their states football club and Soonyoung was a choreographer working with famous celebrities, Hansol on the other hand was the proud of a pet shelter and the one and only Joshua was an English history professor who most days worked overtime at the university. But at the end of the day, they were all the loud and obnoxious assholes he knew and loved from his younger days, and nothing could compare to that.
“Really you never told us about this one hyung?” Mingyu enquires.
“Nah she is just a new hire at the office, does not like talking to people at all. She is more antisocial than Wonwoo’s ass.”
“Really now, antisocial?” Seungcheol enquires, not missing Jeonghan’s defensive tone.
“Yes, Cheol antisocial, plus I don’t even know her enough,” the male says while rolling his eyes at his friends interest with you.
“Maybe you could talk to her and get her out of her shell, you are a pretty good mediator in our group I think you could do that,” pipes up the ever so benevolent Seokmin.
“Yes, you could,” Seungcheol joins him smirking a bit.
Now thoroughly annoyed Jeonghan exclaims “no I cannot. The only way someone can get that stuck up bitch out of her shell will be fucking her or something and I do not want to do so!”
“What if I pay you, will you do it then,” Seungcheol says still smirking.
“Do what?”
“Fuck her enough to get her out of her shell.”
The whole room goes silent at that statement.
“Hyung, I don’t think it’s right,” the youngest of them, Chan, suddenly speaks.
“Yes, its morally incorrect man,” Jeonghan agrees.
“I will pay you, plus life is pretty boring. This will give us something to talk about for at least the next year,” the oldest explains still smiling a bit.
“I agree with the others, its emotionally taxing and nothing good will come out of doing something like this man, plus what are we teenagers making bets about emotionally harming others?” Joshua says.
“Jeonghan, you do it and I will give you a thousand bucks,” the oldest says calmly. At the same time all the men in the room let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there is no winning with this stubborn man, while hoping silently that Jeonghan does not succumb to the greed.
But alas they were wrong, so wrong. An amount that lucrative will only be passed by a fool and Jeonghan was no such thing. He stood up from his place at the loveseat and confidently strode over to Seungcheol.
“You better keep your fucking word,” he says while shaking the older man’s hand.
While Seungcheol smiles and says, “you know what you complete the bet within the next six month I’ll give you a five thousand and if you don’t end up doing it, you gotta pay me pal.”
--
After that evening with his friends, Jeonghan was pretty stressed, because why should he not be? Making you sleep with him is hard enough, but making a situationship out of it sounds even harder. Now he thoroughly regrets accepting the bet.
You on the other hand are pretty happy and quiet as you often are. Very much unaware of his internal turmoil, as you keep talking excitedly about the new Lego death star you bought.
Yes, you and Jeonghan have bonded quite a bit these past few days, he likes spending time with you too, and so do you. It is a nice and comfortable friendship you both have built, and you like it.
“Why don’t you let me come to your place this weekend, and we can build the set together. We can get takeout later too,” he suddenly speaks up shocking you with such forward proposition.
“Well only if you want to though no pressure, it’s just that I really wanted to build the death star and was planning to buy it but like couldn’t make enough time to do –”
“Sure, you can come,” you speak up stopping his nervous rant.
“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks just to make sure he heard it correctly.
“Yes, I am, it will be fun to build the Lego set together,” you say smiling.
“Yes, it would be, but like are you really sure,” he says again to make sure he is really not hard at hearing.
“Jeonghan if you ask me once again, I will take back what I just said.”
This makes him stop talking at all and he proceeds to show you his beautiful smile, making you feel a bit giddy inside.
“So, I will come this Saturday and we shall make the death star cuz we can,” he sings, making you bark out a laugh at him.
Little do you know you just poured a cool bucket of water on the burning flames on anxiety inside Jeonghan’s brain and he is extremely happy about that.
--
The next Saturday comes rolls in slowly, the tedious and boring week is over, and it is time for self-care and a lot of friendship building activities or that’s what you thought.
The man was mad and when you say mad you mean it. The Lego making only lasted for like two hours before he had hidden all the pieces of the part that you were making, resulting you to search for them all over the house. Moreover, after diligently searching and finding nothing, you had given up when he had produced all those pieces from his pockets shocking you to the core.
This little stunt had made you force him to pay for the takeout and when you were both fed and watered, he had proposed a game of chess. Only problem, you never knew one could cheat in this game too. He moved the pieces wrong.
Result. You both had the pettiest fight ever wherein the man with all his might tried to convince you that the rook was indeed supposed to move diagonally.
“You don’t understand, that is how the game is played. Are you sure you ever played this before?” he had asked.
“Hani you are wrong, please the rook never in its whole life moved diagonally, it always moved straight.”
“Maybe that is what your problem is, you are so uptight, you refuse to accept the differences in our opinions!”
“Oh, now I'm uptight, you are only being this difficult cuz you are losing!”
“I wouldn’t if you let me play the rook diagonally.”
“But that is not how it is played! Why don’t you—"
All your rants stop just like that, it took you at least five business days to actually realize that Jeonghan had kissed you. But once you got over that shock, you closed your eyes and moved your lips along with his.
Jeonghan, thoroughly exasperated by your intense argument, impulsively sought to quiet you by placing a soft, lingering kiss on your plump lips. Almost immediately, regret washed over him as he feared he had acted rashly at the worst possible moment. Mentally preparing to distance himself from you for the rest of your time together, he was taken aback when you reciprocated the kiss, instantly dissolving all his worries and leaving him pleasantly surprised.
You broke the kiss to take a breath, both looking visibly flustered.
“Do you want to stay the night, or do you want to go?” you asked him while looking at him with your sparkling eyes, making Jeonghan want to glue his ass to your house, but he being the gentleman he was declined the offer.
“I would really like to take you out on a date. As I really like you, so I won’t spoil my chances with you by staying tonight.”
To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You always thought of the man to be a Casanova, so the idea of him taking you on a date while simultaneously insinuating that he won’t take any harsh steps with you was a nice little change and you were all for it.
--
It was all smooth sailing after that.
Jeonghan took you to an amusement park for the date next Sunday and oh boy did you enjoy yourself to the fullest.
Both of you had the time of your lives. Making sure to go on every ride, play every game and eating every junk you found there. By the end of it you were visibly exhausted and elated with how the day went.
The following day you were visibly happier in the office and even had a small conversation with one of your coworkers.
This went on for the following month, with each and every date you opened up to Jeonghan more and more, and so did he.
He loved spending time with you and vice versa. It was during your regular Friday movie nights, a ritual you both had established as you both liked watching movies and bonded while talking about them, when Jeonghan absolutely bored with the movie scooted a bit too close to you in hopes of gaining your attention by annoying you, a typical Jeonghan move. When you both ended up making love on the couch.
This was only the start of a lot of escapades you would have with the man.
After that one night, Jeonghan was all over you at all times. Be it at the office or be it at home he was with you or texting you all the time. Your nights were now filled with heavy make outs and intense love making sessions.
Everybody at the office knew about you both. On top of that you were more extroverted than ever. You even went out with your coworkers for an office dinner. Somehow, Jeonghan was praised for the change he brought in you, and like his ‘kind’ self, he declined all those compliments with a gracious smile.
He didn’t like to say it out loud, but he liked your changed self, more than your reserved one. Plus, he also took credit for the change, but it’s not like he would tell you that anytime soon.
--
 It was almost five months into dating Jeonghan, when he asked you to meet his friends. You knew he had a very loyal group of friends and you had never met them before. On the contrary Jeonghan had met your one and only best friend within only three months of dating. In the most best friend manner, the lady has hated his ass the whole-time side eyeing him constantly and leaving petty remarks here and there. But that night she had called you and told you something she didn’t ever say for any of your boyfriends “I can see he loves you a lot. For the first time you chose the correct guy.”
Getting your strict best friend to like Jeonghan was like clearing the first hurdle of your relation. For the first time, you were proud of your choice in men and especially your boyfriend.
“Oh, I would love to meet them, but would they like me,” you were rightfully concerned about the boys liking you. As much as you were independent, you would like to gain the approval of your boyfriend’s friends like any girlfriend.
“They are dorks through and through, they will love, don’t worry” he had said while kissing your forehead to calm you down.
“Plus, you will fit right in, they are nice people,” he later added.
--
That evening, Jeonghan had taken you to the Korean BBQ place downtown where they all were meeting. The night had started rocky but within an hour you were having fun with Mingyu and Seokmin, all worries forgotten. Jeonghan had looked at you with pride blooming in his chest with how happy you looked with his friends, enjoying yourself.
It seems that all the twelve of them had liked you a lot saying you were the perfect partner for Jeonghan, someone who could ground him at the same time let him be himself.
The BBQ party came to an end, but the boys still had a lot of energy, so they went to the karaoke next taking both you and Jeonghan with them. Although you were thoroughly exhausted, you had complied to go, seeing Jeonghan have so much fun was a sight you didn’t want to miss.
You had gone to the bathroom the first thing right after reaching the karaoke place, to wake you up and also to do your business. Seungkwan had accompanied you claiming, “all that soju and walking has made my bladder shake like never before!” it’s not a lie though, they did drink like it will be the last time they ever get to drink.
As you came out of the restroom, Seungkwan gave you a kind smile and said “I have never seen Jeonghan this happy before, not even with us. I'm sure he likes you a lot.”
Smiling at him you said, “I think I love him; I have not said that to him yet, but I really think I do.”
With a sassy ‘good for you’ from the one and only Boo, you both made your way to the room that your group had booked.
As you reached closer, you could hear all the boys talking to each other.
“I approve, she is an angel, she even consoled Soon when he cried” said one of them making you smile a bit. By this time Seungkwan had stopped with you too eavesdropping on his friends as he is as dramatic as one can be.
“She is nothing like what you described her to be you know, she is nice and kind and far from being stuck up,” someone else said.
“Nah she is not, that stuck up once you get to know her, contrary to that she is very cheery and I like her you know,” Jeonghan had replied making you feel extra giddy inside.
“Hey bro if you like her that much maybe we should call off the deal we made, I see how much you like her and if you ask me, I will say she is a keeper,” with this statement, a silence washed over the whole group. You looked at Seungkwan to understand what was happening, but the man refused to look at you still stubbornly pretending to listen to the conversation.
“I said I like her, not like her enough to let go of the five thousand you offered” you suddenly heard Jeonghan speak making you even more confused about the whole ordeal.
“I think you will regret it you let her go hyung,” Seokmin suddenly said with a very somber tone generating a lot of assertive noises from the group.
“She won’t bring me five thousand, plus I fucked her got into a relationship with her and made her the fun-loving bitch she is now. It was a tedious process, but I completed my work, so I deserve the money.”
It was hard hearing the man you loved so much make such a degrading comment. At this point you were shaking with emotions so much that even Seungkwan who refused to look at you during this whole time, had to hold you steady.
“Did you know about this,” you asked him.
The boy with his eyes downcast just nodded his head.
“I won’t even ask you why you didn’t tell me about it, I get it you are his friend makes sense.”
“Hey none of us wanted him to do anything like this, but your Jeonghan is unstoppable sometimes and about the wrong things.”
“I think I should get going, I’ve heard enough.”
“Hey y/n we like you a lot, so please stay in contact with us later, no matter what your verdict is,” the younger man pleaded with glistening eyes, making you almost accept the request out of pity.
You ignored everyone and strode into the room bustling with men, heading straight for the couch. Without hesitation, you grabbed your bag and, as you walked out, approached Jeonghan and delivered a firm slap to his face. "We're done," you declared before exiting the room without glancing at anyone else.
--
The minute you had left, Jeonghan felt his life crashing down on him. The looks of disapproval from his friends and the pure disappointment that radiated off you caught him off guard. He had thought he could get out of it with both the girl and the money, but suddenly he realized he didn’t even need the said money, he only needed you. The weight of his words came to haunt me as soon as he had spoken them.
He immediately attempted to follow you but was stopped by Seungkwan, “did you see her face, if you follow her now, she will resent you more. Not like you don’t deserve it, but you are still my friend.”
The tone of his voice showed how much he was upset with Jeonghan. So much so that the younger male could not even look at his face.
“You are my hyung, but you know what I like her more, never have I ever thought you would do something like this,” he continued, “I hope she never forgives you.”  
Hearing that Jeonghan couldn’t control himself and punched Seungkwan and a fight broke out. The boys trying their best to resolve it.
“It’s already a mess, can you both stop making it worse!” Mingyu said as Seungkwan punched Jeonghan back square on the jaw.
“Tell that shit to not meddle in my business then” comes Jeonghan’s voice.
“Maybe if you didn’t break her heart I wouldn’t, she was a fucking nice person,” Seungkwan shouted back as Mingyu dragged him out.
The night was ruined, and it was all because of Jeonghan.
--
That night you came home and cried your heart out ignoring all the calls from Jeonghan and the other boys, with whom you had exchanged numbers during the hangout. Thankfully, it was a Sunday the next day, so you didn’t have to look at the man who broke your heart, but it pained you so much to even move a muscle. It was like your heart was ripped out of your body. The pain was immeasurable.
There were at least a hundred missed calls on your phone and thirty of them from all of the boys. Your best friend come to your place that Sunday and tried her best to console a sad you, but nothing could stop you from beating yourself up for trusting a man like him. it’s true you loved him, and you regrated doing so, you didn’t blame Jeonghan for breaking your heart, you blamed yourself for being weak enough for you to let Jeonghan do so to you, for letting the man step all over you like you were a piece of trash that had no place in the normal world. The degrading things that he had said about you kept echoing in your ears, making it hard for you to think of anything else.
It was like you had forgotten all about your vow to never let anyone step over you and take away a piece of you from yourself. You were so hurt that you refused to see Jeonghan at all. So, on the next Monday you asked your HR for a weeklong leave and the kind lady obliged owing to your stellar performance at your department.
You turned off your phone that week and went to stay with you friend as the house was too lonely for you and the more you stayed there, the more you felt the memories of you and Jeonghan coming to haunt you.
--
On that Monday, Jeonghan woke up with a newfound determination. He was resolved to confront you and explain that his hurtful words from that night stemmed from his own inability to accept his feelings. He believed that once he clarified his side of the story, your compassionate nature would lead you to forgive him. He was even prepared to humble himself, willing to beg for your forgiveness if necessary. However, fate intervened when he discovered you had taken a week-long leave from the office.
The realization of consequences hit him suddenly. Yes, he understood the gravity of his actions, but he was willing to face any repercussions if it meant having you back in his arms. Anything seemed bearable compared to the thought of losing you.
By Wednesday, Jeonghan found himself standing at your doorstep, desperately knocking, hoping to speak with you. To his dismay, a neighbor informed him that you had been absent since Monday. His heart sank realizing he had missed his chance to reconcile with you.
He had made a solemn vow to himself that he would reach out to you no matter what obstacles lay in his path, willing to go to any lengths to make amends. However, he now realized the depth of his mistake. Reflecting on his actions, he understood that he should have heeded the advice of his friends earlier, but it was too late for regrets.
Jeonghan's determination to win you back consumed him. He felt a deep pang of regret for not acting sooner and for failing to appreciate the warnings from his friends. Now, facing the reality of your absence, he grappled with the weight of his impulsive behavior.
In the days that followed, Jeonghan resolved to wait patiently for your return, determined to seize any opportunity to make things right. He hoped against hope that he hadn't irreparably damaged the bond between you. Each passing day without you served as a sobering reminder of the importance of listening to his instincts and valuing the counsel of those who cared about him.
--
The next week you opened your phone to see it has blown up with Jeonghan’s messages and there were a few from Seungkwan asking you if you are okay and telling you that he had punched Jeonghan for being an asshole to you and that most of the people didn’t agree with Jeonghan’s antics but its hard to stop Jeonghan when is like that.
Taking pity of the boy you and answered him accepting his apology and telling him you were happy that he punched the guy.
His answer came immediately, saying he was happy that there is no bad blood among you two and he prefers you more than Jeonghan anyways making you laugh at his cuteness.
When you returned back to the office, the first thing you did was hand them your resignation letter. The next thing on your list was avoid Jeonghan till you leave work, at which you were pretty successful.
And just like that you were done with your time in the office and were moving onto another job before Jeonghan could even get hold of you.
--
Its has been three years since and life had never been better. You became friends with Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung immediately. You four hangout quite frequently. The three younger men like you a lot too. It’s a strong bond you have created with them. If anyone asks you would say the only good thing that came from your ex was the friends you made while with him.
On top of that you also have been in a relation with a man who treats you right and loves you to death. Its like you have at last reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
--
Jeonghan on the other hand drowned himself in work after you left, the man tried his best to forget your existence and was very thankful his work helped him do so. But whenever he was out with his friends he couldn’t stop himself from asking about you and always he got the same answer of ‘none of your fucking business’ from Seungkwan.
But it was different this time, it was the ever so kind Seokmin who answered him.
“Hyung she moved on, and you should too.” Hearing that he stood up, he didn’t know why. Would he go to your house and beg for your forgiveness again or will he call you while asking you to give him another chance?
Truth to be told, he didn’t know.
“Hyung please don’t mess this up for her. She is happy,” Seokmin spoke up again, kindly holding his hand to pull him down back onto his seat. It felt like Jeonghan’s life has come crashing down on him once again. One lone tear left his eye, too embarrassed to cry in front of his friends, he puts up a happy front while saying “of course Seok, I would do nothing to hurt her.”
All his friends looked at the man in pity, hoping that faith was kinder to him. but they couldn’t deny that he single handedly destroyed his life either. He was still their friend and he deserved to be happy to but so did you. The man sat in silence for some time till Joshua loudly declared he wanted to go to the arcade and all the others enthusiastically agreed, happy about the distraction.
That is when Jeonghan realized life has gone on and not stopped for anyone, the time he was supposed to seize his moment has passed and it wont ever come back. He now has to live his life without the presence of one of the most precious thing he ever had the privilege to possess, your love.
Tumblr media
a/n 3: thank you all for reading !!
290 notes · View notes
Note
can you do a gideon graves x gn!reader? any hcs (sfw or nsfw) about anything is fine :3
Dating Gideon Graves Would Include…
Pairing: Gideon Graves x GN! Reader.
Summary: Read the title.
Warnings: Both SFW and NSFW (sections are separated: SFW is first), You take Gideon to therapy because he needs it, Gideon is selfish, Oral sex, 69 position, Mentions of cum, Face-sitting, Face-fucking, Aftercare is necessary!
Writing Time: 30 minutes.
Word Count: 716.
A/N:
I think I went on a rant here… but it’s ok. Hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
—-///—-
SFW
• Dating Gideon “G-Man” Graves… woah.
• You must be bold or something.
• If you’re not, I have no idea what you’re doing.
• Gideon is a little shit, most of the time.
• He loves to tease.
• He wants to see his lover look up to him with tremendous trust, respect and admiration.
• All things I think partners should look at each other with, but Gideon can definitely take it too far at times.
• He wants to submit to him in all ways.
• He’s your saviour and your kind, without him you would be nothing.
• Not very healthy at all.
• For example, he expects you to constantly ask him for permission for everyone.
• Generally he’ll always say yes and laugh at you even asking.
• But if you ever think you don’t need to ask, you’re wrong.
• Do something he’s always said yes to before without asking him prior and he’ll be upset.
• Gideon has got major issues.
• I think you could convince him to go to therapy, both on his own and with you (couples therapy).
• But it might take a couple asks.
• And when you do convince him, he’ll think he’s basically sacrificed himself for you.
• One session and he thinks he’s a new man and YOU owe him for going.
• Will absolutely expect some kind of reward.
• Gideon is a weirdo too.
• It’s normal for him to hang around outside while your taking a shower, kind of weird.
• Won’t join without an invite but it’s still weird as hell.
• Gideon loves to watch you do anything tbh.
• Cooking, cleaning, brushing your teeth, go to work, work, come back from work…
• The little everyday tasks everyone does is just a little more interesting to Gideon when he sees you doing it.
• He likes it if you watch him too, it’s kind of a weird form of love to him.
• Your therapist calls it abandonment and attachment issues.
• Gideon thinks that’s BS and claims he just loves to look at you.
• Which he does, but your therapist is still right though.
NSFW
• Most ‘rewards’ Gideon expects demands are sexual.
• You shouldn’t have to be even told to get on your hands and needs for him after he’s gone to therapy for you.
• Your place is either besides him or underneath him.
• Gideon’s preferred position is 69, don’t fight me on this on.
• In this position, you both get pleasure.
• And despite how selfish Gideon can be, he does want you to feel just as good as him.
• When he’s forcing his dick down your throat and slapping you in the face with his balls, you must surely be enjoying it just as much as him, right?
• And obviously he’ll go down on you afterwards, because that’s only fair.
• Gideon gives oral real lazy though.
• Expects you to just sit on his face but be careful of his hair and face.
• Gideon has definitely flipped out before and killed the mood when you once accidentally came on his face.
• Only in his mouth, inside of him or away from him where it won’t make a mess.
• But obviously he cums all over you, whenever he wants to.
• That’s one of his selfish needs.
• Gideon is surprisingly great at aftercare.
• He will bring you a towel or carry you to the shower, whatever you want.
• Clean you up himself and the toys too if you use them.
• And bring you some tea or water as well.
• Then cuddle you when your both all cleaned up.
• After sex is one of the rare times you’ll see Gideon being kind.
572 notes · View notes
cherriecove · 14 days
Text
Fine Line Between Duty and Oaths (Part 6)
Gwayne Hightower x Targ!Reader
Summary: The second born daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma is just as brave, beautiful and stubborn as her older sister but cannot deny her growing love for a certain red haired knight who just so happens to be a dear friend's brother. Cherrie's Note: Hi everyone sorry for my short break writers block is the worst! Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part
Tumblr media
The room erupted in congratulations and expressions of delight at the news of your mother’s pregnancy, but you were momentarily lost in your own world, still processing the joyous news of your engagement alongside the worry for your mother. Gwayne, standing beside his father, beamed at you with a mixture of relief and happiness. The dream you had scarcely dared to hope for was now becoming a reality.
You glanced over at Gwayne, his gaze fixed on you with genuine warmth and affection. He stepped forward and took your hand in his, his touch sending a comforting tingle through you. “Princess,” he said softly, “I’m truly honored. I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “And I am equally honored to be betrothed to you, Ser Gwayne.”
Your father’s voice drew your attention back to him. “Yes, it is indeed a fortunate match. I trust you both will handle the responsibilities with grace.” He looked around the room, his gaze settling on Gwayne’s father, Otto Hightower, who gave a nod of approval. “We have much to prepare for, but for now, let us celebrate this joyous occasion.”
The rest of the meeting was a blur of well-wishes and excited chatter. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Gwayne and the future you would share. It felt like a dream, and yet the warmth of Gwayne’s hand in yours made it all the more real.
As the small council room began to clear out, you found yourself alone with Gwayne once more. He gave you a shy, yet hopeful smile. “I suppose congratulations are in order for both of us,” he said softly.
You laughed gently, the sound light and carefree. “Indeed. Though I suspect there will be a lot of work to do.”
Gwayne nodded, his eyes reflecting the same determination you felt. “Yes, but I have every confidence that we can face it together.”
You shared a moment of silent understanding, the connection between you deepened by the shared promise of a future together. As the evening approached and the Red Keep’s halls began to quiet down, you and Gwayne took a stroll through the gardens. The weight of the day’s events settled comfortably between you. The air was cool and the stars began to emerge, twinkling like distant promises of what lay ahead.
Gwayne stopped beside a fountain, the water’s gentle murmur providing a soothing backdrop. He turned to you, a serious expression on his face. “I know that our betrothal may have come sooner than either of us expected, but I want you to know that I am committed to making this work. I want to be more than just a husband; I want to be your partner and friend.”
You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for the knight who had so quickly become an integral part of your life. “And I want the same, Gwayne. I am eager to face whatever comes our way with you by my side.”
Gwayne reached out, taking your hand in his once more. “Then let us make the most of this time we have together, learning and growing in each other’s company.”
With a soft laugh, you nodded in agreement. “Yes, let’s do that.”
As the night deepened and the Red Keep settled into peaceful slumber, you and Gwayne walked side by side, the promise of your shared future lighting the way forward.
Tumblr media
In the weeks following your betrothal, the reality of Gwayne’s impending departure to Oldtown settled in. The excitement of your engagement and the whirlwind of wedding preparations provided a welcome distraction, but the necessity of his return to his duties as acting lord was a constant undercurrent in your thoughts. When he left, Gwayne’s letters became a cherished part of your daily routine. Each letter was a blend of affection and updates about his work in Oldtown. He spoke of the challenges he faced and the responsibilities he managed, but his words were always filled with love and reassurance.
You reciprocated with equally heartfelt letters, sharing news of the preparations and your daily life at the Red Keep. The Queen’s pregnancy progressed, and though her growing discomfort was evident, everything appeared to be moving along smoothly. The announcement of a grand tourney to celebrate the expected birth added a new layer of excitement to the Red Keep. The tourney was to be a splendid affair, and you immersed yourself in the preparations with renewed vigor, driven by both the anticipation of the event and the hope of Gwayne’s return.
As the day of the tourney approached, the Red Keep transformed into a bustling hive of activity. The grounds were adorned with vibrant banners, the lists were meticulously set, and the royal box was prepared to host the day's festivities. The air was charged with excitement, and every corner of the castle seemed to be abuzz with the promise of the upcoming celebration.
Despite the flurry of preparations, your thoughts often drifted to Gwayne. You found yourself daydreaming about his return, imagining the joy and relief of seeing him once more amidst the spectacle of the tourney. The thought of him being present, competing and celebrating, added a personal excitement to the already festive occasion. The prospect of reuniting with him after his time in Oldtown filled you with a blend of anticipation and eagerness.
The day of the tourney arrived, and the atmosphere at the Red Keep was electric. Knights from across the realm gathered to compete, their colorful banners fluttering in the breeze as the crowd’s cheers filled the air. You took your place in the royal box, flanked by Rhaenyra and Alicent, who were equally caught up in the excitement.
As you waited for the tournament to begin, you couldn’t help but scan the arena for a glimpse of Gwayne. The anticipation of his arrival added an extra layer of thrill to the already vibrant scene. When the familiar colors of House Hightower finally appeared, your heart leapt with joy. Gwayne had returned for the occasion, and the sight of him in the lists, prepared to compete, was a moment of pure delight. Your father announced that your mother was currently on the birthing bed and then commenced the tourney.
86 notes · View notes
heathermason6060 · 12 days
Text
Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.4
Tumblr media
Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst
Summary: Daryl starts changing, and Beth brings up the embarrassing memory of your kiss with Daryl back at the farm. The Governer has his final attack, and you crash at a church.
Notes: Starts with Beth at the prison, flashback to super awkward kiss with Daryl, ends with Beth at the hospital. ):
The change was subtle at first, but that doesn't mean you didn't notice it. You just ignored it in the desperate hopes that it wouldn't get any worse.
You had quite a few months of peace. Maybe half a year? You couldn't be sure at that point, but you did know that spring had turned to fall, and with it the idea of permanently residing in the prison becoming something you were content with. You still kept to yourself and Daryl, but you did pick up some extra chores. Instead of the bare minimum you chose jobs you could do outside, or jobs Daryl had taken. If you weren't tending to the gardens, you were with him in the woods, hunting or scavenging, even foraging on the occasion when prey was scarce. 
“Are you and Daryl together?’ Beth had asked so bluntly that you didn't have the mental capability to laugh or curse her out. You stopped picking cherry tomatoes and furrowed your brows in confusion. 
“Why would you ask me that?” 
Beth had a tight and timid smile, shrugging her shoulders and placing another cucumber in her basket. “You two are always around each other, that's all.” 
You shook off the feeling of vulnerability and sucked your teeth. “No. He's just the only one around here who I can stand.”
“Can you stand me?”
You looked at her over the row of chest high plants, seeing her hesitant expression. “Yes. I wouldn't’ve let you join me if that wasn't the case.” It wasn't a lie, you didn't mind being around Beth, even if you think she was the one of the weakest and most naive. Eventually you'd come to the realization that you had her all wrong, in fact, she was stronger than you. At least in the sense of emotional capability. 
Later that week she would end up giving you unwanted advice. She claimed that building walls and keeping everyone out besides yourself would kill you one day, much like the real world, you needed to allow yourself to rely on and trust others. You'd grow angry at her then, lashing out and telling her to mind her own business, you didn't need a therapist. She soon managed to turn into the first person you would apologize to and seek forgiveness from. 
Her questioning of the relationship between you and Daryl had your mind wandering to that night back at her fathers farm.
It was late. Daryl was still recovering from his gunshot wound but he wanted out of that damn house, so he settled for the next best thing to his tent, the back of the RV. Carol insisted he stay nearby, which you agreed to silently, and he begrudgingly accepted. 
You brought him a plate of dinner and sat in the chair next to him, sliding it over before taking one of the small boiled potatoes and popping it in your mouth.
“The hell you wearin’?” 
You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Both pairs of pants were dirty and i didnt feel like walking around camp with my ass out.” You glanced down at the modest dress you’d been leant. You didn't mind it all that much, it was scratchy and tight, but it was kind of pretty. It was a warm yellow dress that ended below your knees with little white flowers and dots. You never really got to wear dresses growing up. 
“Huh.” Daryl muttered and raised an eyebrow at the imagery, raising his fork of chicken and carrots to his mouth. “Yeah. Don’t need another reason to knock Shane on his ass.”
“Shane? He hates me.” You snorted. “Would probably put a bullet in my skull if he could get away with it.”
“He’s still a man. Don’t matter how you feel about a woman, s’all the same seein’ her naked.”
“Ew, Daryl.” 
“S’true.”
“Yeah? What about you? You wouldn’t see me that way.”
Daryl’s eyes shot up from his plate. He was silent, and that alone had your heart racing, your lips parting, your mind swimming in hundreds of different thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak. 
“I ain’t no pillow biter.”
“The hell does that mean?”
“Means I’m not a homosexual. Course I’d… can ya jus’ shut up?”
“I wasn't even speaking.” You tried not to laugh at the way Daryl said the word homosexual, like it was some exotic foreign mystery to him. It wasn’t hateful or disgusted in the way his brother would refer to them. 
It was quiet for a moment before you noticed he was wincing when he’d chew. 
“You hurting?” You asked, already reaching in your side pouch for the small baggie of painkillers Hershel had given you to give to Daryl when needed. 
“Nah. M’fine. Quit worryin’ so much.”
You scooted around the table until you could squeeze in beside him. He grunted in annoyance and slid over to give you more room, his eyes on the hem of your dress at your knees.
“Surprised you haven't scratched that thing off already.” You snorted and reached out to gently peel the bottom of his bandage up after he gave you a nod of approval. “Lookin’ good. Another surprise.”
“Ain’t no damn dog, haven’t been touchin’ it.” He rolled his eyes, trying not to feel uncomfortable  with the way your thigh pressed against his. After all these years of knowing you, feeling perfectly comfortable snuggled all up with you in the same tent, now was the time his body chose to acknowledge the fact that you were a woman?
He begrudgingly took the two small white pills from your hand and crunched them up in his mouth. He was eager for the painkillers to hopefully kill what little libido he had in him. 
It did its job, taking away the aching and throbbing from his skull, warming his body and reminding him why Merle used to love those things. He was suddenly optimistic, relaxed, filled with a fuzzy warm feeling of euphoria. Daryl cleared his throat and drug his eyes up to your face, watching as you snuck a stolen blueberry past your lips.
He acted without thinking and kissed you. It was clumsy, weird, awkward, all the things you’d expect from a boy's first kiss. You didn't move at first, your eyes wide and your hand hanging midair. You were too stunned to move. 
Daryl pulled back as if he’d been slapped. He muttered something, his face hot and red, waving his hand to signal you to leave. You were still too stunned to move. It took him raising his voice for you to snap out of it, dozens of thoughts and emotions flooding you all at once, fear, regret, hope, a stomach full of butterflies and your heart stuck in your tight throat. You muttered an apology before leaving.
Life loves giving you the shit end of the stick. 
That was another one of your problems, due to your near constant state of being a real victim growing up. Life had groomed you into an unhealthy behavior of always thinking you were the one who had it the worst, no matter what.  In reality you had it pretty good. After the Governors final attack you weren't one of the unlucky many that went through further trauma. You found a church after a while of being by yourself and broke into it. 
It was just your luck that the only human inside of it was a cowardly priest. He was thrilled to have someone like you with him after being alone so long, even though he didn't show it, you were a skilled hunter and offered food and protection in exchange for secure shelter. He also appreciated that you didn't speak much, and never questioned the suspicious markings and scratches around the exterior of all the windows. 
He'd complained once about your use of language in the church, and you responded by a snarky middle finger. 
You could've used a good wake up call, as sick as it was to say. Maybe if you'd been in Daryl's place, growing close to a girl such as Beth and then losing her, maybe you would've changed. Or if you were in Michonne's place, forced to watch the boy you'd come to love dance a hair away from one of the worst fates possible. Shit, maybe even Maggie, maybe if you were the one who had to go through hell and back to find your husband, maybe then you'd go through the emotional torture you so desperately needed for positive character growth. 
Life didn't work that way though, and you had it easy. So easy that the boredom was quick to become your hardship. 
“You got any booze here?” You asked as you laid on your back beside him in the pews, sharpening your clip point knife on Daryl's borrowed whetstone. 
“No.” He answered quickly, not looking up from the Bible in his hands. 
“Cigarettes? I'll be out soon.”
“I don't smoke.”
“Any of your old prescriptions? I know your type, I bet your bathroom cabinet was full of valium.” You took a jab at his timid and nervous personality.
“I'm sorry, no… I don't like taking pills. I don't even take Advil for headaches-”
“Do you have anything here that'll keep me from blowing my brains out?” 
Gabriel looked up then, holding a look of surprise and distaste that he didn't even try to hide. “I… I may have some games from the children's Sunday school classes.”
To the shock of both of you, you nodded after thinking it over for a moment. Gabriel hadn't expected that answer, but he got up and led you to the room anyway.
Neither of you believed that night would be the night that you started to like each other. The boredom had grown so unbearable that those stupid little games he had seemed like playing San Andreas on your father's PlayStation 2 for the first time all over again. It wasn't just the first time Gabriel saw you laugh, it was the first time you'd actually laughed in a long time, and it wasn't at the expense of others, you genuinely had fun. 
“I could teach you.” He had said after you made a joke about going to the darkest depths of hell after smoking and swearing in church. 
“Teach me what?” You snorted, flicking ash from your cigarette.
“About the Bible. How to change.” 
You laughed then, shaking your head. “I don't know, father. Don't think so. But, if you'll let me, I can teach you how to make meth.”
His eyes widened. “W-what? You know how to do that? No, I- no, what?”
“Just a joke. I'd hate to see you on crystal. You're already so jittery and anxious.” 
He grinned sheepishly then and you had a good night. A great night. 
All it took was reuniting with Daryl to snap you back to reality. 
You'd searched for him as long as you had daylight every single day since arriving at the church. Even though the first few days most of your time outside was spent hunting, searching for signs of Daryl or his group was your main priority. Catching rabbits and squirrels was just lucky for Gabriel. 
It was off putting having Gabriel return with nearly the entire inner group on your doorstep. Your arms were covered in squirrel blood and you had twigs all in your hair, swinging open the church doors with your boot, a cigarette hanging between your lips. The skinned squirrel dropped from your grasp as you saw them, over a dozen faces all turned to you, all at once. 
Daryl hugged you with an exhausted yet relieved grin on his lips. You remained frozen, too confused and shocked by their sudden arrival. He ended up having to move your body out of the doorway so everyone could enter. 
“Was starting to think I lost you for good.” You commented as you stabbed a plastic fork into your hot can of peaches, stretching your legs in front of the campfire. 
“Nah. I told ya, I ain't leavin’.” 
“So, what happened? You all get on the bus and leave my sorry ass?” You teased, enjoying the sweet taste of fruit, even if it was canned. 
Daryl gave you the rundown, about Beth, the group he stuck with, going to Terminus, and the new members who claimed their guy was a big shot fancy scientist who had a cure.
“That's bullshit if I've ever heard it.” You tried to ignore the gnawing in your chest at the information that Beth had been taken. That was just another sick and uncomfortable reminder that Daryl was truly it for you. Everyone would leave, but not Daryl. Never Daryl.
“I dunno. Seems pretty legit.” Daryl grunted, finishing one of the squirrels you'd caught earlier that day. “So what happened?”
“What happened?”
“Yeah, after the shit show. What happened?”
You sighed, impaling your last peach slice. “I walked for a real long time looking for you. Found the church and busted in, this guy was cowering in the back with his ass half way through the floorboards.” You pointed over your shoulder at Gabriel, who was so nervous speaking to Rick you could see his fingers twitching. 
“And I never left. Used it as a place to sleep without bugs crawling up my nose or walkers nibbling my feet.”
Daryl snorted, staring off into the flames of the campfire before asking another question. “You look for me?”
“I tried.” You chose to leave out the part where you ‘tried’ twelve hours a day, seven days a week. “Couldn't find a damn thing. No human tracks besides ole boy. Needs a little less Bible preaching and a little more stealth training.” You paused then, looking at Daryl, who was still staring  off into the flames. “Did you look for me?”
“For a while, yeah. Me and Beth.” It took him a moment before he went on. “Lotta shit happened after that. But I kept lookin’. Was lucky we ran into your friend there surrounded by walkers. Made lookin' a lot easier.” He chuckled dryly and you nodded. You suddenly thought about Daryl back in Atlanta, back at the farm. The way he looked for Sophia, day and night, subconsciously using her as his redemption for not being able to find Merle. Did he look for you the same way? Or was it a more of a ‘keep an eye out’ type of search? 
Deep down you knew the answer. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. 
You didn't have Daryl back long before he was gone again. He came back a while later with yet another new human, some scrawny kid claiming he knew where Beth was. 
It was surprising to you that Rick didn't suggest you just stay back at the church. He actually insisted you accompany them on their search for Beth. That was until you realized Carl and Judith would both be left behind with Gabriel, which would have left you as one of the only adults. That pissed you off a little, giving you the impression that he thought of you as some psychotic loose cannon, or that you weren't capable of protecting them. After you cooled down you accepted the fact that you wouldn't trust someone like you either to watch your only two children, the last thing he had of his late wife. 
Rick had come to slightly regret bringing you when you tormented one of the ‘cops’ they were keeping hostage, blowing cigarette smoke in his face while he was immobile and randomly smacking a handkerchief against his face to annoy him. Rick must've said something to Daryl because instead of thinking your antics were absolutely hilarious, he discreetly pulled you aside and told you to ‘leave the damn man alone’. 
Blowing a little smoke in someone's face was nothing compared to what you wanted to do when you watched Beth get shot in front of you. 
It had only hit you that day when you finally saw your sweet pain in the ass again, you felt optimistic, relieved, her positive attitude was something you deeply needed. It was quickly replaced by feral anger, hissing, spitting, biting, clawing, the feeling of arms belonging to Tyreese wrapping around your torso to drag you away from the bloody mess you'd made of the nearest cop. 
You were grateful for your rage, it was so strong and numbing that you weren't able to cry. 
Oh, but how Daryl cried. 
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx
95 notes · View notes
bookuce · 25 days
Text
Change My Mind
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 
*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *
PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC
TROPE: Friends to Lovers
WARNINGS: Language
WORD COUNT: 2.5K
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
The drive to Pensacola was quiet for Josh. Alina is curled into the passenger seat, fast asleep. It didn’t take long for the sleep-deprived woman to succumb to her body’s pleas for rest. She was out the moment the seat went back. Alina clasped her phone tightly in her right hand and pressed it against her chest. She was expecting a text or a phone call from her best friend, one that would not come. Josh would glance over at her sleeping frame several times, contemplating prying that phone from her hand. All it was doing was putting her in a bad headspace. 
She needed a distraction from that drama, and he planned to do just that—starting with a double date with Jon and Trin tonight. He had alerted the couple to their plans to be in the city just as they were leaving Atlanta. Trinity instantly started brainstorming things to do and sent him an itinerary for the evening. They were now three minutes from his home--the time reading 4:48 PM. 
The music that was playing softly on the radio came to a stop, suddenly being replaced with the ringing of Josh's phone. He peers down at the radio screen, reading his Mother's name. He smiles softly to himself, pressing the answer button on the steering wheel. "Yeah?" He answers. 
"Hi, son." Talisua pipes. "How are you?" She asks. Alina stirs at the sound of Josh's mother's voice coming through the car's speakers. Josh glances over at her, watching as she relaxes once more. Not once did she wake up.
"Never better." He replies. "You good?"
"I'm fine. I won't keep you long, though, because I know you're driving," Talisua starts. "Are you free tomorrow evening for family dinner?" It was rare for all of her sons to be in the same city at the same time, and she liked cooking for them when they were. 
"Yes, ma'am," He answers, "Ay, I got someone for y'all to meet too." He informs her. 
"Oh?" She says, surprised. "Another mouth to feed? O'u aso, be still my beating heart. I cannot wait to meet her! Her, right? Not a kid?" She asks, causing him to laugh. 
"You'd know if it was a kid, I promise." He assures her. Talisua squeals softly from the other side of the phone. Her son having a girlfriend was big news--big, big news. She had to break out the good plates for this one, but he doesn't need to know. She has waited for that man to find a lady he liked for a few years. Each time she asked him about one, he'd shrug the question off, mumbling something about not being interested in anyone. If he's bringing her to dinner, it has to be serious. It has to be. 
"I trust you. Six o'clock tomorrow night, Joshua. No later." She says sternly. "I love you."
"I love you too." He replies, ending the call immediately after. The car fills with soft music again. Josh takes a deep breath, letting his right hand run over his face as he does so. Now, he had that to worry about. He didn't worry much about his mom liking Alina--no, he knew they would get along just fine. It was his Dad he worried about. He was always very...opinionated about his and his brothers' dating preferences. If he gave Jon and Sefa a hard time, he would definitely give him one. 
After a few more moments on this winding road, Josh pulls into the driveway of his home. He leans forward against the steering wheel, peering up at the large house he's practically abandoned. He's lived here five years, the longest he's stayed anywhere, and now he was willing to give it all up for the woman in the passenger seat. 
Josh turns his attention to Alina, his hand reaching for her hip. He shakes her gently. "Baby," He says, leaning towards her slightly. She draws in a breath, a groan coming from her semi-conscious frame. "We made it." He informs her. Her heavy breathing quietens, a sign she is waking up. 
"Hm?" She hums. 
"I said we made it." He rubs over her hip gently, making sure to keep her awake. She lets out a sigh before moving to sit up in her seat. She sits there momentarily with her eyes shut before turning on her phone screen to read notifications. Josh would suck his teeth at her before reaching over to snatch her phone. Alina looks up at him, her eyes widening at him."Nah, bruh, you been glued to that damn phone all day. I want you here with me, not in this." He says, waving the phone at her. Josh slips the phone into his pocket before climbing out of the car. 
He hated to be that kind of man, but this was getting out of hand. Alina watched Josh walk around the car, her mouth slightly agape at the man. Though she knew he had taken her phone for a good reason, she was still shocked he did it. He opens her door, gesturing for her to get out. She slowly climbed out of the car, her eyes locking with his as she passed by. The glare she shot him would earn her a smack of his lips and a shrug.
"And?" He says, returning her attitude. "Here," He says, passing her his house keys. "I'll get our stuff. Jon and Trin will be by soon. We got plans." He moves around her to the backdoor. "And don't lock me out of the house either. You got that shit bad." He says while reaching for their suitcases. No response comes from Alina as she makes her way towards the front door. Josh placed the two heavy suitcases on the pavement and wheeled them up the driveway. 
Alina quickly unlocks the front door to his home, leaving the door open wide for him as she walks in. In all the two years she had known Josh, she had only been to his home twice. The company rarely passed through Pensacola, and because of that, Josh seldom ever came home--well, that and the fact that he practically moved in with Alina. 
Josh entered his home, a sigh leaving his lips as cool air greets him to relieve him of the humid summer air outdoors. His eyes scanned the small foyer he stood in. Nothing had changed since the last time he was here. It was just as he left it last."Home sweet home." He mutters to himself, pushing the suitcases up against the wall near the staircase. He makes his way towards the living room, glancing up the stairs as he does so. "Baby." He calls.
"In here." She responds, her voice pulling him to the living room. There, in the center of the room, stood Alina. Her arms are folded across her chest as she peered into the backyard. She was deep in thought. The drama of the night before had her stuck and unable to process it. Whereas she was stressing about the state of her friendship with Tasha, Josh was actively trying to pull her mind away from it. 
"What's out there?" He asks, approaching her slowly. She slowly shakes her head, silently answering the man behind her. Josh steps in front of her, drawing her gaze from his chest and up to his eyes. Despite the almost five-hour nap she took, Alina still looked tired. The natural dark circles that adorned her undereye seemed darker today. Perhaps it was from the lack of sleep. Or maybe from the crying. Or a combination of both. Josh takes her face between his large hands, his thumbs grazing her cheekbones. "Ay," He starts. "just give her time. She'll talk to you when she's ready." He reminds her. 
Alina closed her eyes, a sigh leaving her lips as she did so. "I know." She whispers. She opens her eyes slightly, peering at him through thick lashes. "I just feel bad." She reminds him.
"Ain't no reason to." He says quickly, shaking his head. "If anything, she should be mad at me. I'm the one that was fighting, not you. Hell, if I have to, I'll call her myself. I got your phone." He says, making her roll her eyes. 
"I'm going to need that back, by the way." She says, stepping back. "People need me." She whispers at him, tilting her chin up. Josh catches her hands, pulling her back into him. She giggles.
"Girl, I need you," Josh argues, lifting his eyebrows at her. "Got me out here competing with a damn phone for your attention." She laughs, her head dropping against his chest. "I don't see anything funny." He says, dropping her hands and wrapping her in an embrace. The smell of Josh's cologne filled her nose, making her relax in his arms. They'd stand there for several moments, enjoying the silence. 
Alina eventually wraps her arms lazily around his waist before lifting her head to look at her man again. He shifts his gaze down to her. "I love you." She whispers. The corners of his mouth would turn up slightly at her words. He doesn't say it back. Instead, he responds with a kiss. He leans in, pressing his lips softly to her own. His beard would tickle her skin like any other time they'd kiss. She responds to it, her fingers playing with the fabric on the back of the black tank top he wore. His hands, just as they did any other time he touched her, would begin to roam--He couldn't help it. He couldn't get enough of this lady in his arms. 
It always started tame with her, but the moment Josh gets handsy, all bets are off. His hands would curve over her backside, earning himself a hum from her. Her hands vanish beneath his shirt, traveling along his spine. They'd move around the front, now gliding down his abdomen. His stomach retracts at her cool hands against his warm skin. 
Suddenly, Josh lifts Alina into his arms, deepening the kiss as he does so. We have time, he thought as he moved them towards the couch. Carefully, he lowered her onto the sofa, settling between her legs as he did so. Alina reaches over his shoulders and pulls his shirt over his head. They'd break the kiss for a brief intermission. He snatches the shirt from her hands and tosses it to the side. They resume their passion-filled kiss, Alina's hands now being the ones roaming. His hips would grind against hers, creating a hard-to-ignore friction between the two. 
"Damn, y'all couldn't make it to the bedroom?" A voice says from behind them. The moment they were sharing would come to a screeching stop. Josh breaks the kiss and lifts his head. "Just getting freaky where the company sits?" Jon adds. 
"The doorbell broke, Uce?" Josh asks, now glancing over his shoulder. There was irritation in his voice at the disturbance his brother caused. For the first time, Jon would see the shiner Josh had. He stifles a laugh, his cheeks filling with air as he sputters and turns away. He finally lets out that loud laugh he was fighting before turning to face them again. Josh moves off of Alina, standing to retrieve his shirt. "Yeah, laugh it up." He mutters, putting his shirt on.
Jon brings a closed fist to his mouth, quickly hopping from left to right as he laughs. "Damn, he got your ass good!" He says, stopping to look at him. "He better look worse."
"Jon," Alina calls, sitting up on the sofa. The eldest twin pauses, his mouth slightly agape.
"You lost!?" He exclaims.
"The fuck I look like losing?" Josh shouts.
Trinity comes around the corner. "What are y'all in here being--. Oh my God!" She exclaims, at Josh's eye. Jon laughs again, his eyes squeezing shut at his wife's reaction. The younger twin sucks his teeth at them, turning to make his way back over to Alina. "Josh, you didn't!" She says.
"See, if you would've let me get on that flight, this wouldn't have happened," Jon says to Trinity. She begins to argue quietly with him. Josh would sit down next to Alina, his brows furrowed angrily at the pair. His eyes would shift from them to the floor. Alina grabs his hand and brings it to her lips. He turns his focus to her, his eyes scanning her face. He should've canceled their plans for tonight. She leans over and presses a quick kiss to his lips. 
"Boy, bye," Trinity says, turning her attention to Alina and Josh. "The Uber is three minutes down the road." She informs them. Alina leans forward to peer around Josh, her eyes finding Trinity. Josh never told her what they had planned for the evening. Based on the way Jon and Trin were dressed, it couldn't be something too fancy.
"Where are we going?" She asks.
"It's a surprise." Trin answers. Alina's eyes flicker down to Josh's, but he glances away. Strange. Alina looks between the two of them. 
"Okay..." She says slowly.
"It's gonna be fun, snookums, I promise," Trinity assures her. "Ain't that right, babe." She says, looking over her shoulder. Jon leans off the wall, nodding.
"Oh for sure!" He says, walking over to them. "We gonna have a few drinks, eat some good food, and have a good time." He says, backing up his wife. "Nobody getting they ass whooped tonight." He adds. 
"Really?" Trinity and Alina say in unison, looking up at Jon as they do so.  
"What? I'm just saying we're each other's backup. No twin or wife left behind, right, Uce? Big bruh here now." Jon says, holding his hand out towards Josh.
Josh's top lip curls in annoyance at his brother. He lifts his index finger, pointing it at the man. "Man, I can't stand your ass sometimes." He says. Jon bites his cheek, a poor attempt to suppress his smile. He turns away, making his way back over to the wall he was leaning on. On his way over, he slightly doubles over, letting out a shout. 
Trin looks at Josh, a sympathetic grin on her face. She leans in to grab his face, examining the bruise. "You are alright, right?" She asks.
"Yeah, I'm good, sis." He assures her. She steps back from him, glancing down at her cell phone. 
"Uber's here." She informs them, moving towards her husband. She grabs his hand, pulling him from the living room and out the front door. Josh and Alina remain seated for a few moments longer. 
Josh takes a deep breath and stands to his feet. "Well, honey," He starts. "We best get going." He finishes. Alina smiles at the sound of him calling her honey. It was quickly becoming her favorite term of endearment to hear from him. 
Alina moves around him, now pulling him towards the front door. "So," She breathes. "To be continued?" She asks, turning to face him. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she watches him. She's walking backward, leading them out of the house. He pulled the front door shut as he took in Alina's appearance. Even when she wasn't dressed to the nines, he looked at her like he could tear her apart where she stood. 
His eyes find hers again. "You crazy as hell if you think I wasn't spinning the block for your ass later."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Nothing to see here... I have no explanation for my absence, but this was highly demanded...well everything actually...er we working on that! Any guesses where the Fatus are off to? Also...looks like Lina's meeting the family tomorrow.
🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland 
112 notes · View notes