#hopefully we can accentuate the positive

[grelleswife]

*grasping my fellow like-minded Kuro fans by the shoulders* Listen to me, comrades…we are NOT going to tolerate attempts to make The Cursed Ship popular and widely-accepted on this platform again, or misgendering of our lady Grelle Sutcliff, or sliding backwards into the mire of fandom toxicity, in the wake of this new anime announcement. We 🔥 are 🔥 not. 🔥

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field VI

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing

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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)

anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)

so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).

thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!! 

i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !

xoxo, raye

You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.

Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.

The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.

"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.

"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.

You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.

"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.

Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."

"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."

"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.

You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."

Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.

You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."

"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.

Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.

"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.

"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.

You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.

"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.

Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.

"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.

"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.

As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-

"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."

Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.

"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."

"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"

You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.

"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.

"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.

"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."

"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.

"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.

Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.

He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.

"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.

"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."

You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.

"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."

She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.

You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.

You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.

"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.

"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."

"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.

You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.

He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.

It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.

You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.

"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"

You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.

"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.

Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.

"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."

It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.

His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?

You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."

Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."

You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."

"See it? See what?"

You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.

"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."

With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.

"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."

Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"

"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.

He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.

Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?

You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"

"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.

You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.

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[1wh4re1]

Rivers and Roads

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Well, here we are, friends! I’m actually writing it here is the first chapter in my Ghoap x F!Reader fic. I know this is short but I do hope y’all enjoy it. If you would like to be added to or taken off of the tag list let me know! I appreciate all of the interest and will hopefully be coming out with regular updates! 

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Chapter 1: After the End 

Six tests. All positive.

You’re sitting on the toilet in your hotel room just trying to breathe. You’re pregnant. You suppose you have no one to blame but yourself. It’s not like you three used protection all of the time, assuming your birth control would be enough.

It's eleven weeks after Johnny's passing and the morning of day six of your two-week leave. You had been feeling sick the past several days, brushing it off as a bug you caught during travel. You managed to put it all together when, of all things, a tampon fell out of your purse. You realized that you missed your last cycle but with everything going on with Makarov you never caught on.

Your immediate thoughts turn to Simon. You have to tell Simon. Oh god, you have to tell Price too. He’ll want to pull you out of the field. Desk duty has never been a favorite of yours. You groan and put your head in your hands, you guess you're cutting your leave short.

Trashing the tests, you call the front desk while you browse airlines and hope you can get a refund on your room for the remaining days. 

------

The twelve-hour flight to London does nothing to soothe your nerves. In fact, the closer you get to base the worse your anxiety becomes. You aren't sure how you will break the news to Simon. You aren't even sure how he'll react given the current circumstances. He's been tracking Makarov, often working days at a time and leaving for short solo recon missions.

When you arrive you head straight to his office, hauling your duffle bag with you. You knock and wait for his gruff "enter". When you do open the door, you immediately notice the scattered papers and multitude of files on his desk, so unlike the organized man you know. The bags beneath his eyes are dark, accentuated by the plain facemask he wears.

You set your bag down at the door letting it softly click shut behind you and head around his desk, sitting on the edge adjacent to him.

You sigh, "Hi love...when was the last time you slept?"

"Doesn't matter," he grunts, he doesn't even bother looking up from the report he’s reading.

"You have to take care of yourself. Why don't you come to rest for a bit? I'm tired from my flight and we could both use a nap."

"No."

You blink at his harsh tone. You feel your frustration bubble beneath the surface. "Simon. You need to realize your limits right now. It's important for-"

The loud scrape of his chair across the linoleum interrupts the rest of your sentence. He turns to you for the first time since you've entered and your eyes widen at how angry he looks with you.

"What I'm working on is important. You need to grasp that concept or leave so I can get back to work."

You push off your desk and stand toe to toe with him. You've never been one to back down and your anger is now fully on the surface. "I understand it's important," you hiss. "How could you think I don't? You weren't the only one who lost him. He wouldn't want this." You deflate a little and in a softer tone, you ask. "We still have us, Simon. You won’t fight for us too?"

"The best things about us died with Johnny and you know it. You don't matter! We don't matter!” He hunches in on himself a bit before he mutedly says “The only thing that matters is finding Makarov."

His words pour over you like acid and you flinch, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. He never raises his voice at you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "I love you, Simon, I do, but I can't watch you do this to yourself. If this is it, if this relationship is not worth fighting for, then this is over." You meet his eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he does nothing but stare back at you, you nod and turn away. Snatching up your duffle bag you head out of the room and slam it behind you without looking back.

There are other people in the hallway who stare as you pass, having heard your little drama. You keep your head high despite the redness in your eyes and face, avoiding their gazes as you make your way to your old quarters. You don't think you can stand being in your shared room surrounded by all the things you have lost. 

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[willalove75]

New Girl on the Pitch Ch. 2 Lunch with the Boss

Pairing: Rebecca Welton x f!reader

Summary: Your friend Keeley brings you in as the team's social media manager, Rebecca is impressed, in more ways than one.

Words:

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn

Notes: Chapter 2

Your first week was anything but easy, the teams social media accounts were a mess. You spent half of your first week weeding through trolls, bots and angry fans. You've dealt with negativity and navigating hateful comments with other brands socials, but this was the worst you've ever seen. To make things worse, some journalist, Trent Crimm, was sniffing around on your second day asking you about the socials and how the team was dealing with the negativity. As far as you know, more than half of the team doesn't even follow Richmond's social media accounts, it wasn't a good look. You're hoping you were able to make yourself, and the team, look better by telling him your plan to come up with some campaigns to improve the teams social media presence which will, hopefully, ward off the hate comments.

When Trent was talking to you, you did notice Rebecca slow down as she walked past your office. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that she was looking at you with a smirk on her face, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

You were pretty positive at this point that she was checking you out, the few interactions you did have with her over the past week had a very subtle, flirty undertone to them. She was a mystery to you, even when she seemed to be flirting with you, she still seemed so, cold? You want to know what's under that tough, exterior but it seems impenetrable still.

"BOO!"

"OH MY GOD"

Keeley bursts into your office and scares the crap out of you as she laughs hysterical

"Holy shit dude you scared the shit out of me!!"

"Heheh good! Now come on we're going to lunch!"

She spins away as you grab your stuff and follow behind her. You walk towards the double doors and you see Rebecca standing there, looking at her phone. Damn, this woman was so good looking. Her tight dress hugs every curve on her body perfectly, her red bottomed heels accentuate her long, toned legs. Your eyes move along her body stopping at her ass. Man, does this woman have a great ass, and wide, round hips to go with it. It's crazy to you how well this dress shows off her perfect hourglass figure. You take note of her tiny waist, all you want to do is wrap your arms around it and rest your head on her full chest. The deep V neck of her shirt reveals just enough of her soft skin to make you want to drool, she has the best tits you've ever seen on a woman. She's still looking down at her phone, her long, slender fingers tapping away at the screen. You're envious of her sharp jawline, her softly curled hair tucked behind her ear that's decorated with a simple, pretty pair of dangling earrings. Her lips perfectly plump, they look so kissable. You look up to her eyes, a beautiful shade of green, they're staring down at the screen, unnoticing you and Keeley walking towards her.

"Rebecca!!" Keeley shouts as we walk closer. Her head quickly turns and your eyes meet hers, a small smile crosses her face, you smile back. Something about her seems different, like a little of her coldness melted away.

"I asked y/n to tag along with us!" Keeley says excitedly

"Very well then, shall we go?" Rebecca says happily. You're a little surprised at her tone, you expected her to sound annoyed or irritated that you were crashing their lunch date, but she seems happy about it, or at least unbothered.

The three of you walk out of the building.

"My driver will take us" Rebecca says, walking towards her car.

"Yes! Now we can all get drunk!" Keeley jokes, although you and Rebecca both know Keeley well enough to know she's only half joking.

The three of you climb into the back seat of the car, you end up sitting in the middle between Rebecca and Keeley. You've never been this close to Rebecca before and you start to feel a little anxious. You get a whiff of her perfume, it's as beautiful as it is intoxicating. The scent calms your nerves as you all make small talk on the way to the restaurant.

The car makes a sharp, unexpected turn that tosses the three of you around in the back seat. You get thrown into Rebecca, almost landing into her lap. Your hand ends up on her thigh when you try to stop yourself and you immediately scramble back into your spot.

"OI!" Rebecca yells. Fear shoots through you for a second, thinking she's yelling at you; you quickly realize she's yelling at her driver and you relax.

"Apologies ladies" her driver says "This fuckin' twat thinks he's the only bloke on the road."

Rebecca looks at you and puts a hand on you leg. Your heart begins to beat harder and faster. You start to feel a wetness between your legs.

"You okay love?"

"Uh, yeah thanks, sorry. Are you?"

"No apologies necessary. And yes, I'm fine" She says with a smile that makes you want to melt.

Her hand lingers on your leg for a few seconds longer and she slowly slides it off of you. Your heart continues to pound as your thoughts start swirling once again. "Is she into me?" "How can she be into me?" "Fuck she's my BOSS" "Damnit she smells so good" "shit I want her so bad" as the wetness between your legs grows.

You pull up to the restaurant and the three of you get out, Keeley opens the door and you follow behind her, you turn your head to make sure Rebecca is in the door before you let go of it and you catch her eyes looking down at your ass. Her eyes snap up and meet yours. They have the same intensity as usual, but this time you see a hint of lust in her eyes. You flash a quick smile and continue to follow Keeley.

The three of you are seated in a corner booth in the back of the room. Keeley gets in on one side and Rebecca slides in next to her. You go to the other side when you're stopped.

"Keeley slide down" Rebecca says, making room for you to sit next to her as she pats the seat next to her. You sit down and look over at Keeley, who has a big smile on her face and gives you a wink. You roll your eyes at her and look at the menu.

The waitress comes over to take your orders, you each place your orders and the waitress turns to leave

"Oh wait one more thing!" Keeley says "we're gonna get a round of mimosas!"

"We are?" Rebecca says coyly.

"Hell yeah! It's almost the end of the week and we're not driving!"

"Dude, it's Wednesday" you say with as both you and Rebecca laugh.

"Oh whatever!" Keeley turns back to the waitress "three mimosas please!"

Your drinks come out pretty quickly and you guys chat about the team, about Ted, and basically all things Richmond. By the time your food comes out the mimosas are finished and the waitress asks if you wanted a round two.

Rebecca orders a white wine instead and you and Keeley order the same.

After the wine comes out the conversation slowly begins to shift from work to life. Keeley starts talking about Jamie and is complaining about something stupid he had done.

"Well Keeley" Rebecca starts to say "Jamie's just-"

"Fucking immature" you blurt out.

Rebecca and Keeley look at you, a little surprised.

"Well I was going to say 'young' but that's also appropriate" she says with a giggle.

Seeing Rebecca loosen up is nice, the icy exterior seems to melt away with every sip of wine she takes. Somehow she's even prettier when she's relaxed, you notice for the first time how her eyes sparkle when she laughs, and how the laugh lines she has around her mouth and eyes accentuates her bright smile.

You start sharing stories, Keeley talks about some party she went to in Ibiza, Rebecca talks about a wonderful vacation she went on to the south of France, and you share stories from college and one particularly wild party you and your friends threw at your on campus house you lived in. This one party in particular was a rager, you tell them how one of your friends tried to ride your roommates bike down the basement steps, and how someone else fell off of the balcony into the bushes.

"Who the hell did that?!" Keeley asks laughing

"Chris" you say flatly

"Oh" Keeley says, finishing off her wine

"Who's Chris?" Rebecca turns to ask you with a raised eyebrow.

You look into her eyes and look away

"A fucking asshole."

"Yeah, he's the one who convinced y/n to move here with him and then broke up with her and started dating this hot Italian model" Keeley

"You mean the Italian model he cheated on me with, then left me for" you say bitterly "she's just fine looking" you lie to yourself

"Is she really fine or do you just not want her to be hot?" Keeley pries

"Of course I don't want her to be hot! I mean she is, she's really fucking hot" you say, Rebecca looks at you with a bit of a surprised look on her face

"You know she's actually really fucking ugly" Keeley says

"She absolutely is" Rebecca chimes in

Caught off guard you look at Rebecca "do you know her?"

"Nope" Rebecca says, finishing her wine "but I don't have to, I had to deal with a fucking asshole of my own recently. I get it."

Rebecca pats your leg in support. You expect her to pull away but she leaves her hand on your leg, you feel your panties get wet again. You lean your legs into hers, you feel her lean back into you. A small smile comes across your face that you try to hide.

Rebecca pays the bill and the three of you head back to the car. You pile in, with you in the middle once more. Rebecca leans her legs into yours. The three of you keep chatting and Keeley says something fresh, as usual. Rebecca reaches her arm behind you to pinch Keeley. Instead of pulling her arm away, she leaves it across the back seat. You feel her twirl your hair between her fingers.

"Your hair is so soft, y/n, it's so pretty" Rebecca says.

"Yeah I meant to ask you this, who does your hair?" Keeley asks

"Uh, I haven't gotten it done since I left home actually"

"Oh you have to get it done before the charity ball this weekend!" Keeley exclaims "I'll take you to my favorite place!"

"Sure, thanks Keels!"

The three of you get back to Richmond and head inside

"We HAVE to do this again! This was so much fun!" Keeley exclaims

"We certainly do" Rebecca says

"Oh definitely!" You say

The three of you begin to part ways, Keeley starts walking away when you notice Rebecca is staring at you. You look up at her and she gives you a wink and heads off towards her office. Your heart skips a beat and you feel a pulse shoot down to your center.

Higgins runs up to her

"Oh Ms. Welton, I wanted to know if-"

"No." She cuts him off, in her usual, icy tone.

"Oh, okay, uh" Higgins says as he walks behind her

"Don't follow me" she says coldly

"Right uh, I actually have to go this way anyway" as he turns down a random hall.

You're pretty convinced that she did that for two reasons, first, because she genuinely doesn't like Higgins, for whatever reason; and secondly, so you could have a clear view of her ass as she walks away.

You head back to your office and sit at your desk. You notice that you guys were gone for over two hours and your day is almost over. You think back on the afternoon and remember talking about Chris, god that piece of shit can ruin your mood even when he's not there. You remember Rebecca telling you she had her own version of Chris, and you vaguely remember seeing something in the paper about her. You decide to look her up and you read all about Rupert and what he did to her. "Well no fucking shit no wonder why she's icy" you think to yourself "what Chris did to me was bad enough, if he did to me what Rupert did to her, I'd want the whole fucking world to burn."

The day ends and you pack up your things and head out. Rebecca's car begins to pull away as it slows down and stops next to you, the back window rolls down and you see Rebecca smiling at you.

"Y/n, you are coming to the charity ball this weekend, right?" Rebecca asks you with a smile

"Oh yeah, I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Good, will you be needing a plus one?"

"Uh, no, I'm good, thank you though"

She jots something down into her notebook and looks back at you with a smile "Have a great night"

"You too"

You give a quick wave as Rebecca shoots you a wink and the car pulls away.

"Oh shit" you think to yourself "I need something to wear"

You pull out your phone and call Keeley

"Keels, I just realized, I don't have anything to wear to the charity ball this weekend!"

Keeley squeals on the other end as you wince and pull the phone away from your ear. Keely is talking a mile a minute and asks "Where are you? I'm coming to get you right now!!" You tell her you're just leaving work and she says "Okay stay right there!”

The lines goes dead and a minute later you hear a car squealing as you turn and see Keeley peeling into the parking lot. She pulls up next to you

“SHOPPING TRIP!!!!” She squeals as you jump into the car. She peels out and you two are off to fine the perfect dress for the ball.

~~~ part 3 will be posted soon ~~~

[shiawasekai]

ooh Character Design! Stature, roots and change for Nela?

Thank you so much as always, Dujour!! 💖 These are a lot of fun. Getting a cut down there because it also got long!

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

It can be found here! Careful, it got really long.

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

In terms of body type, it's a reverse triangle (the shoulders are wider than the hips, it's fairly noticeable in the underwear version of the ref sheet) with a proportionally very short torso. She is otherwise fairly petite, including her height: Nela is barely 154cm (midway between 5' and 5'1'' from what I've gathered for the americans reading this).

Now about the clothes... She has throughout worn flattering clothes that both enhance the good and camouflage the bad through her entire life. This isn't necessarily her choice, however.

When she started to have a modicum of choice on how she dressed as a teenager, it was still her parents (sometimes, very rarely, herself) making her clothes. They had the perfect skillset and it was a much more common occurrence overall in the past.

Her parents obviously made her clothes that would look good on her, even if money was always tight due to the circumstances of the time period and the fabrics weren't the best. Rejecting those clothes would have been the same as spitting them in the face.

And, you see, as much of a feral gremlin as she was in her teens, she loves her parents. They struggled to properly care for their extraordinary children, and they struggled the most with her, but they were always as supportive as they could. They listened when she said she wanted pants instead of dresses or skirts. She doesn't resent them, it wouldn't make sense for her to reject any of it.

Then comes the game, in which she has even more reasons to want to hide herself but she cannot because of her position. And, by the time her mental health has declined beyond the point she has the energy to care anymore, she has people around that are determined to ensure she isn't having an easy time self-destructing.

It's only when she finally starts to bounce back in post-game that she's wearing clothes that look good on her because she wants, not because the situation gives her no real alternative. Which is both a testament of people's love for her, and of how much her life has been shaped by her issues with her physical appearance.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

If we are talking about changing their appearance willingly and knowingly, two times comes to mind.

First, during her early teens. She not only stopped wearing dresses and skirts for the most part (that at least was for comfort), but cut her long hair short and intentionally disheveled and tattooed her face. Both explicitly to, hopefully, ruin her own looks because she was a troubled teenager who hated her heritage. I won't go there too in depth, partly because i may clean up a certain rant that covers this in detail.

So, essentially, she got very close to a bingo on radical appearance changes. It was liberating in a sense at the time, and thanksfully hair grows so that's not a big problem, but the tattoos are something she would have come to regret if the events of the game hadn't happened. She would have worked through her issues and come to see what she did as what it is: self-harm.

As things stand, those same tattoos are something that links her to her past and have sentimental value. Even if she also realizes it was incredibly stupid! She, however, doesn't ever really come to regret them.

The second time has a much more positive connotation, however. When she finally is comfortable enough with her new self after everything (the time slipping, the mythic metamorphosis) to look at herself at the mirror and take proper care of herself for the first time in, honestly, 7+ Actually Lived years.

She cuts her hair, a cute hairstyle this time. Still short, because she does like it like that! And this time she keeps it short, instead of letting it grow out because she can't gather the energy to do the upkeep until it becomes an actual problem.

She chooses her own clothes by herself, not that many at first. She isn't going to waste money on things she doesn't need (Daeran does that without her help). But it's still a very significant moment for her, especially coming from her background. The first time she gets to choose what to wear both gladly and freely in, let's be real because poverty sucks, her entire life.

[yeahthegirlsmedia200]

Instagram vs Reality?

Beyoncé. Where do I begin? A character, an icon, an influence in the media. Beyoncé isn't a name that goes unrecognised these days, she is known for her singing career that began in the 90's with Destiny's Child, and her career has been evolving ever since. We have seen almost every side of her throughout her career, from pregnancies to marriage drama, but why do we idealise the airbrushed version of her? or of any celebrity in the limelight? When did it become the 'norm' to want to become the skinnier, softer, no blemish version of ourselves? When most us know that this is unattainable. The photo on the left is the original version of the Beyoncé 4 album cover. Here we see her 'perfectly' posed and positioned. A flawless complexion all over, with curves in just the 'right' places. A typical and idealised representation of the feminine body in today's society. The 'natural' highlight shining on the front of her body seems to accentuate the the parts of the feminine body that is to be desired by the media and the public. The photo on the right, I have edited her figure to be a less 'ideal' and hollywood version of the original. I understand that this body type is still deemed as 'desirable' compared to other body types, but even so, the larger lower legs and larger stomach is usually edited smaller in hollywood, and this can be damaging to a younger, impressionable audience. On the right, Beyoncé is not toned, her thighs are larger, and I gave her less defined ankles. These may seem like small changes, but for someone like me, to be able to see a person's figure that is closely represented to a figure of my own (like shown in the picture on the right), this can make the world of difference. A wider representation of women's bodies in the media is essential for the younger generation that will grow up on the internet.

Young girls and women often look to the media for validation on their bodies and if they see a body that is like theirs would hopefully lessen the self loathing that is socialised through most avenues of media. For them to wish to be more like themselves rather than wonder why they don't look like a model in a fashion campaign or an artist on an album cover would be empowering for them. Why aren't we raising a generation of empowered girls and women? Why does the media continue to set unattainable expectations for women's bodies? It is because an empowered and confident woman is too POWERFUL to control?

We have to be asking the why.

[becomingtoday]

Reclaiming Our Words

It helps to accentuate our words, giving them more power and authority. Hopefully we can come to a place where we automatically default to the positive; declaring with compassion, dignity and respect as we continue “Becoming Today”.

This week we have been talking extensively about the fact that words matter. What you say and how you say it, makes a significant difference as well. That’s where we’ll begin on this edition of “Becoming Today”.  Together we must unite to take a stand to reclaim our words. We are losing too many of them, as “they” seek to further divide us, separate us and promote false agendas through…

[zawazawanightmares]

Milly Ashford & Giantess

You, Milly Ashford, are connected to Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP) Your partner selected the 18+ server.

Milly Ashford: Milly walked along a waterway, her camera held in her hands, looking for a news scoop. She stopped at a suspiciously large shade. "Hmm...was a tree planted near here? And did it grow...overnight?" She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw a gargantuan woman sitting down. She was as big as a Knightmare Frame...and had the proportions to match. "...Oh."

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): The gigantic woman was dressed strangely -- in a white tunic-skirt and boots reminiscent of the Greco-Roman style, as if this was some kind of mythological titaness come to life. She had fair skin, blue eyes, and long, wavy black hair. When Milly approached, the giant turned her massive face toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Oh," she rumbled in a slow, deep voice.

Milly Ashford: "Hi...?" Milly weakly greeted. She didn't seem hostile. "Um, my name is Milly Ashford and I work for the Britannia Times. If you wouldn't mind, despite the lack of prep time, can I interview you?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): The ground shook as the raven-haired giantess stood up to her full, towering height. She was perhaps 25 or 30 feet tall. Milly was a bit less than knee-high. Now looming over the scene, she put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Very well, little one. I suppose I might enjoy a chat."

Milly Ashford: "Good. Very good..." She blushed, trying not to look up the giantess' tunic. "Let's start off with something simple so that I may address you properly: what's your name?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): She cracked a thin smile, noticing the way Milly was deliberately avoiding her tunic-skirt. "I am called Titania. But you'll say yes ma'am and no ma'am to me. Is that understood, little one?"

Milly Ashford: "If it will make the interview easier for you to take, then...yes ma'am." Milly nodded. "Let's start off with another simple question: are you a giantess?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): It felt strange to yes ma'am someone who as seemingly about Milly's own age. "Yes, obviously. But what does the word' giantess' mean to you?"

Milly Ashford: "A mythological being, in this context. Not to insinuate anything but most people don't get this big." Milly said. "Why would a giantess want to spend time here?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): She thought for a moment, then nodded. Her wavy black hair breezed about in the wind. "You can think of me as a mythological being like a god or titan. That isn't inaccurate. And who says I want to be in this setting? Nevertheless, I find myself here..."

Milly Ashford: "I see. Is this environment hurting you in any way or do you just easily adapt to whatever area you find yourself in?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "A being of my power can adapt to virtually anything. Though I do seem to be substantially oversized for this little place." She smirked. Her voice was so slow and deep Booming.

Milly Ashford: "Well, we do have certain...instruments about your size so it shouldn't be that hard to accommodate you." Milly smiled.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "Yes, I've seen them. The lengths you little mortals must go to in order to mimic just a fraction of my power..." She returned Milly's smile.

Milly Ashford: "Ah heh...hopefully we'll learn to just leave well enough alone." Milly's smile was accentuated with a blush.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): She took a huge step forward, shaking the ground and putting a huge boot right in front of Milly. Her shadow completely covered the girl. She looked straight down. "You're blushing."

Milly Ashford: "Am I? Are you sure it isn't the make-up?" Milly's blush grew brighter in the shade.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "Absolutely positive," the big woman rumbled confidently.

Milly Ashford: "I suppose I'm used to beautiful women being smaller than me, not so...much bigger." She explained.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): The giant stared down at Milly for a moment. Her eyes were vast and cool. Then she chuckled. "Ah, I've seen this before. Some people your size can't help but be attracted to size and power, hmm? I suppose you're one of them."

Milly Ashford: "I suppose power is a weakness of mine...no matter what form it takes." Milly confessed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "Very well," the big woman boomed. "You can serve me. I'll give you the closeness you desire in return for your submission." She wiggled her nose in amusement, then gestured down at Milly. "Come closer. Touch me."

Milly Ashford: "Serve? In what fashion?" Used to being in positions of authority, Milly usually wouldn't be enthused at being volunteered for servitude in such a manner. But she still found herself approaching the giantess, touching Titania's leg with her hand.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "In every fashion, Milly. I deserve power and control. You'll use your own position to help me get it. You rank rather highly in this society, don't you?" Titania's shin was immense -- warm, smooth, and lovely to touch. The giant woman titled her face straight down to maintain a semblance of eye contact.

Milly Ashford: "I...I used to be nobility but currently, I am just a reporter." Milly revealed. Why is she being so open with a stranger? This isn't like her.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "What a shame. But I won't go back on my word. I already promised you the closeness with me that you seek in exchange for submission. And I'm a woman of my word." She slowly bent down to a massive bare knee. The ground shook from the impact. Her huge, smiling face leaned closer. She reached Milly's tiny neck with a great big fingertip -- gently stroking it. "You're easy on the eyes. I like golden hair."

Milly Ashford: "You do?" Milly felt her own knees go weak. How can something so big feel so...soft? "Then I can be yours?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): She nodded. "You already are, little one." She allowed her massive hand to curl gently around Milly's torso. Long and elegant fingers squeezed her pint-sized body, feeling the shape of it and compressing her little breatss. She lifted Milly up with ease and smiled as her legs dangled. "You're quite tall for a mortal. I only just noticed. That's an attractive trait."

Milly Ashford: "You can see why this is so...exciting for me." Milly giggled. "It's so hard to find a woman around my height, let alone taller than me."

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "I can certainly imagine having that problem, yes." There was more than a hint of humor in her voice. She lifted Milly to her face and studied the little thing for several moments -- big blue eyes taking in every detail of Milly's face. "I'm pleased with you. But don't forget that you have to be fully submissive to me."

Milly Ashford: "I am willing to turn over any corner of my body to you." Milly said, a sultry undercurrent in her voice.]

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "That's exactly what I like to hear," the big woman boomed. Now she held Milly in two hands and began removing her clothing -- undressing her like a little doll while fasting her eyes on the bared flesh.

Milly Ashford: Milly's E cup breasts spilled out from her unhooked bra, her juicy thighs on display as her skirt was removed and her bubble rear exposed as she was stripped nude. She made no attempt to cover herself but she was already feeling electricity course through her body from the thrill. "Oh my..."

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): Titania's face reddened with arousal. Massive hands squeezed and grasped Milly, touching her legs, her bare stomach, her ass, her back, and her bare breasts. She just touched her and turned her over in those huge, soft, dominant hands. Then she leaned forward and licked one of those E-cup breasts with a massive tongue. It was huge and bumpy and left a line of saliva.

Milly Ashford: "Ahh..." Milly felt the massive tongue wash over her body, her frame shuddering from the contact. Even though the tongue only brushed against it, her nether regions were becoming rather moist as well.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): She wasn't ready to focus on Milly's nethers yet. She sucked both of those huge, yet tiny, breasts in her mouth. Hard. Hot saliva flowed everywhere. Her tongue licked and lapped over soft breastflesh and nipples. Her hands held Milly so firmly in place, all the while kneading her naked little body.

Milly Ashford: Milly's nipples stiffened in Titania's mouth, her moans growing louder as every inch of her was pleasured, her futile squirming in the giant's hands calling to mind a tryst with several women at once.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): It definitely felt like groupsex. It was that intense. Massive fingers were all over Milly, squeezing her little legs and torso while Titania sucked. It was overwhelming -- maybe in a good way, maybe not. Either way, Titania eventually stopped sucking MIlly's breasts. She turned the girl over an studied her bare little thighs and sex. Then she moaned with arousal while stretching her tongue out to lick that little womanhood with the tip of her tongue.

Milly Ashford: Milly cried out, squirting onto the giantess' tongue as she came. She arched her back against her hands before panting as she came down. "Sorry..." She sheepishly uttered.

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): Titania's head face withdrew. She still held Milly but her two hands became soft and supporting instead of dominant. And she smiled down at the nude little blonde, relaxing. "Was it everything you fantasized about?"

Milly Ashford: "All that and more..." Milly answered breathlessly. "Can you keep me?"

Giantess (F, 20's, Black Hair, Lit. S/RP): "Of course. You're mine now. We're a couple." The big woman patted Milly's little head with a fingertip, enjoying the feel of that golden hair.

Milly Ashford: Milly smiled. "Then I guess I'm your consort."

You left the chat

[creativejunkie1]

Evaluation of the creative process

The final outcome of this brief became a series of photographs, written work, lost and found objects, upcycled canvas prints and the red shoes. I found myself creating a series of narrative conceptual work. When looking at creative writing work I based the work around personal experiences of trauma and a journey to sobriety.

Inspiration came from the work of Alec Soth, an American photographer, Soth has a keen eye when taking pictures that accentuate the poetic life in the everyday human experience, his work often highlights the link between the narrative and metaphorical.

“I fell in love with the process of taking pictures, wandering around finding things. To me it feels like a kind of performance. The picture is a document of that performance”

Alec Soth (nd)

According to Nicholas Forrest in the Artsy. Net article, Revival of the narrative in contemporary art (nov 2012 )the word narrative is regarded as a “Dirty word “ partly because some see narrative art as somewhat not “Intelligent “ however he also states:

“That the narrative still has its place in contemporary art as long as are not afraid to explore and challenge traditional perceptions”

I must admit I tend to agree with this statement and find the narrative can be found if one wants it to be found no matter what medium whether it was intended or not.

Other artists of interest for research purposes are those who focus on personal inner reflection rather than that of the external. These include Alex Gibson whose work appropriates figures into abstract backgrounds. He uses humour and romance, seriousness, and folly. His work rejects pure image as do my photographs. Alicia Gibson’s work are made by combining painting textile and written phrases.

As a multimedia artist my works intention was to engage the audience and trigger an emotional response. I also find that by producing such work, I am able to find some equilibrium, through the process of writing and creating, I find myself journaling my thoughts and ideas in resolving issues surrounding past relationships with myself and others, thus proving that art is therapeutic and can help soothe the mind and soul. I have always been interested in the performance within static 2d and 3d forms, the creative writing allowed me to express this.

Sigmund Freud (1919) speaks of the uncanny the experience of seeing, observing something that feels familiar but also strange and uneasy ,by producing work in relation to domestic abuse and sobriety I hoped to have connected to the audience, giving that we do recover we can move forward hence the red shoes “a day in mine”. Even in negative situations we can make something positive . The photography in” Sober in Glasgow” is the journey from being lost and bleary eyed to being stable wide eyed and curious, as if seeing Glasgow for the first time.

When attending the CCA experiences of Robert Palmers photography I realised that each viewer interprets visuals differently and in my case with a preconceived idea of what something is telling us.

“Sober in Glasgow” it came to my attention that for some it is simply a photo of a woman walking through the streets , however with the use of filters and editing tools I made the woman figures transparency a feature to hopefully draw attention to a sense of releasing all that no longer serves the soul a feeling of transition and healing. I chose to print these in high gloss print as well as on acetate. I believe the acetates are highly effective and create another layer to the whole story, the seeing through the situation, the looking at someone else’s life. This is how I hope they are received by the audience.

These may be presented on a wall or light box which will be decided when space has been allocated.

The shoes were used as a surface to write on the colour red symbolising passion, fear, or warning this is a direct nod to the pain endured when faced with domestic violence.

The words written on the shoes represent the regain of control and sense of relief of no longer harbouring such fear, the colour red has been continued from previous work in third year’s use of red roses and red flags.

I recorded some spoken work however at this time I don’t feel I am able to use it effectively in the show presentation due to lack of technical ability this is something I may continue to develop. However, by using vinyl lettering I have chosen to display some of the written material. There are also the canvas boards that are upcycled using white acrylic paints and newspaper. On these boards the words read all about it give reference to my life being on show my life being an open book or article for readers pleasure. These a direct reference to the newspaper or billboards we see on the street vendors or outside shops with the front-page headlines.

Using the canvas and acrylic paint worked to create a rustic peeling effect as the paint dried it cracked although not firstly intended I feel it worked well and decided to use it as a diagrammatic board of mark making. I started to follow the cracks and like the art of wabi sabi wanted it to look like the pen was mending the cracks. This also brought my attention to the work of Cy Twombly the American artist who developed a vocabulary of its own in abstract paintings. His work is personal, mythological, ancient yet modern.

“To my mind one does not put oneself in a place of the past; one only adds a new link”

Cy Twombly.

The intended conclusion of the developed work was to have myself as the subject without physically being the subject , I think I achieved this through the narrative of the piece my life and my story on show through photographs and writings, one of the reasons for not being physically seen is not only do I feel uncomfortable in front of the camera as I have a loathing of my own voice. In the future this may change, and I may also overcome this however for now the piece is on the wall open and vulnerable just as a performance piece would be.

[esstrauss]

“Zir That” (An Epic Panku)

September 27, 2022

How does zir receives rays from sun in the 

Sky 24/7 warm them, when zir feels like piles 

Of mud and shit the sows have been picking 

At for the same length of time; never full. 

It is impossible to be positive all day, everyday. 

We are not put down here on planet Earth 

To behave this way. If that was the way 

Of the world it would be a boring George 

Orwell novel that translated too violently to the stage. 

More fake blood shed in a gorgeous theatre than 

On the battle fields of the Ukraine. When put 

Down consistently by the same community of people: She’s 

Too pretty, too smart, too creative, too unafraid, too 

Fearless, too busy to care, she repeats the same 

Words in zir poetry, too much self esteem too 

Care that she repeats the same words. She is 

Changing the world, positively. A word that zir is 

Not always comfortable with. But feels a kinship with 

The word positive, over cool. She continues to sharpen 

Her edges with dull knifes in order to understand 

The word “cool.” Too much dry humor for one 

Line? Not in zir’s opinion will deadpan comedy ever 

Go out of style. But, zir does agree, she 

Is unafraid of professional challenges. Zir will never understand 

Why folks use the phase “self promotion” negatively. Are 

We so afraid as a human race to be 

Proud of our accomplishment while some watch their worlds 

Fall apart quickly? She/zir will never be able 

To help others are not as fortunate as zir, 

But that does not mean she cannot help them. 

But, if they say no, zir cannot force their 

Hands to steer their ships into positive waters. Or 

Even calmer waters. One zir wishes they could swim 

In without fear. But, zir still doggy paddles and 

Hold the side of the giant pools, floaties as 

Secured as they can be, and yet she worries 

About chlorine getting in zir eyes, fingers pruning, bladder 

Becoming uncontrollable. And yet, all these things have already 

Happened, given our bodies speak before our brains can 

Catch up. Confidence will be key, but how does 

One practice this? I-Statements, staring at Diana and 

her dogs? Writing until the fear of finishing the 

Style of poetry zir created feels complete? Perhaps this

Lies in the tarot decks we have not purchased 

Or unwrapped yet, as we long for mates, here. 

“Thinking about, thinking about tomorrow” and what will happen? 

Who zir will encounter? Perhaps zir will meet zir 

One and only…if zir still believes in one 

And only loves. Zir has been struck by Cupid’s 

Arrow twice. His arrow has left wounds in zir 

Heart, sorer then the two vaccine injections from yesterday’s 

Mz. Moderna visit. Zir would like to know if 

The weddings zir must attend next summer will zir 

Bring their hopefully last plus one? Will zir have 

The nerve to be invited with a plus one?

Past loves have shown stubborn rams and scorpion tails 

Have left zir so fragile that coming up for 

Air to accentuate the positive can be impossible. The 

Motion of the ocean leaves zir seasick for years 

On end. But then, zir thinks to zirself what 

Is a wedding date? A person on a date 

In time you shared a moment with among many 

Other ones that will become memories like coffee and 

Red wine stains in you brain and heart. Unsure 

If you want to clean them up or let 

The roasted café oat milk au låit on your 

Cherrywood table that sits up in the attic apartment 

Adjacent to the tea stains that zir intentionally enjoys 

To make and look at. Moments in time that 

Leave positive splashes of fruit punch gatorade and spicy 

Brooklyn ginger beer on zir tongue for days, months, 

Years, and some pounds later. How will zir continue 

To be positive as the rain clouds and bull 

Moves closer to their psyche, heart, and lips? Zir 

Will remind zirself, zir can only be as positive 

As rainbows and unicorns, which are not always so 

Bright.. Rare. That motion sickness does not last forever, 

But depending on the body, may be the center 

Of attention time and again. And, Diana and her 

Dogs will be there to protect zir when possible

But not always. Otherwise, how can we continue growing?

[sinsandsuccubus]

Luv is Dro - Jack Harlow

Context: You let Jack take his frustrations out on you.

Warnings: 18+ ! Sexual activity.

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Fem!Reader

Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not older stated age. Reader’s discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.

-

Masterlist ☽ ☾

                                          ☽ ☾

“Why not release this upcoming fall?”

“Jack’s you’ll be on tour, it doesn’t make any sense. We should aim for next year.”

“Next year? That’s a hell of a time in between, that’s not going to work.” Jack shook his head as he looked around at his team. They’d been in the office for hours, trying to figure out when he’d release his next album.

“I mean, Jack, we have to work on promotions, album covers, merch, all that to go with the album. Not to mention it’s not even finished-“

“Look y’all, I get that, but I’m trying to get ahead of the game.”

“There is no head of the game here Jack, you’ve just released an album your fans love, no need to bum rush into this.” At this Jack took a deep breath, shaking his head in his palms.

“Let’s call it a day.” He spoke frustrated as he immediately rose from his seat, grabbing his belongings and heading out the door, it slamming shut.

Blowing out his mouth, he walked towards his Jeep, checking his phone for messages.

Mamas💜: hope you’re having a good day bby.

Immediately he began to type the message, knowing he needed some sort of release to help his frustrations.

Message (Jack): day was rough. Need you.

At home you felt your core clench, already knowing what this meant. The butterflies in your stomach began to erupt as you typed the next message.

Message (Y/N): you can have me. i’ll be ready for you when you get home.

                                          ☽ ☾

Sliding off the couch, you walked to your shared bedroom, dipping into the walk in closet to look for the perfect lingerie. Jack rarely had rough days at the studio, especially with the success of his newest album. He had been inspired immediately by his fans after, taking to writing songs for, hopefully, the next album. Yet, you noticed a change in his demeanor within the past week, as he struggled to bring his team together on a next release date. Personally, you thought he should take time to relax and bask in the warmth of his new album, but knowing Jack, once he was on a run, he wouldn’t stop. And the high of the success from the recent album pushed him into a sprint. You assumed that today, the sprint had stopped.

Digging through the closet, you found a set that fit your body perfect, accentuating all of your assets perfectly. It was also a shade of Jack’s favorite color - purple.

You dimmed the lights in your room, lighting candles around the surfaces amongst. It was the perfect setting.

As you got everything settled, you heard the front door open and shut, the sound of Jack calling out to you echoing throughout your shared home.

“In the bedroom baby!” You could hear his feet shuffle amongst the floorboards, sensing the frustration in his steps.

Stepping into the room, Jack’s eyes fell lustfully on you, sitting on the bed with your legs crossed, leaning back on your arms that were firmly placed on the bed.

“Baby…” He groaned out, taking in your appearance.

You stood up, slowly walking towards him, running your manicured nails down his chest. Slowly, you leaned up and whispered in his ear, the warmth of your breath making him strain in his pants.

“Take me Jack, I’m all yours tonight.” You slid back to eye his face, and watched as the baby blue color of his eyes thin with a ring of lust, his hands immediately moving to push you on to the bed. Leaning over you, he sucked at your skin, making you moan sinfully as you tugged at the belt of his pants, his shoes left at the front door.

After undoing the belt, you slipped your hand into his pants, palming his dick over his boxers.

“Fuck ma.” He groaned, to which you changed positions with him; you standing in front of him, his body resting on the bed.

“This is about you baby. I know you’ve been frustrated, and I just want you to feel good.” Slowly you sunk to your knees, pulling his jeans fully off his legs as well as his boxes.

He watched you with lustful eyes as you took out his cock, your thumb running over the tip covered in precum.

“Don’t tease ma.” You hummed, taking his words literally as you attached your mouth to the head, swirling your touch around the tip before plunging down, causing him to let out a deep moan.

“Oh fuck. Shit baby.” You bobbed your head up and down, massaging his balls as you took him in. You pulled your mouth off of him, jerking him off, your tongue swiping back and forth along his slit. You then proceeded again at your previous actions, bobbing your head up and down skillfully, pulling the most vocal moans from Jack.

“Fuck baby, just like that. Holy shit.”

You removed yourself from him with a pop, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“I want you to fuck my mouth baby.” The look in his eyes reflected a banter, him contemplating his actions.

“Y/N, are you sure you wanna-“ You cut him off.

“Yes baby, I want you to set your own pace. Make yourself feel good. Use me Jack, I’m at your disposal.” At that he groaned, standing up as you shifted back to make room for him.

“What’s our safeword?” He asked to which you replied with the word you had chosen. He nodded his head, to which you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. Jack immediately took the opportunity to slide into your warm mouth, a loud grunt falling from his lips.

“Fuck.” He announced as he began to fuck your mouth at his own pace, electing tears from your eyes. You took all he gave you, moaning around him at the vocals he produced. Your cunt clenched around nothing, hand trailing down to relieve yourself.

Jack immediately pulled from your mouth, tapping his cock on your cheek.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

“No…”

“No what?” He questioned.

“No daddy.”

“Good girl.” To which he thrust back into your mouth, chasing his own high. You moved your hands to grab at the back of his thighs, moans vibrating up his shaft.

“Fuck princess, I’m gonna cum.” To which you grabbed at his ass, pulling him close to signal him to release in your mouth.

A few more thrusts and he hit his peak, the warm spurts of cum painting your mouth. You swallowed it all, leaning back on your heels to release him and show him your tongue - clean.

“Get up.” He demanded, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you onto the bed, immediately falling into the missionary position.

He pulled away at your bottoms, tossing them somewhere around the room. He slid into you swiftly, your moans in sync as he thrusted into you, setting a sensual pace.

“Shit, you’re always so tight ma. Like this pussy was made for me.” He spoke with a groan, watching where the two of you met.

“All yours Jack, always.” You moaned out, eyes shut. Your walls fluttered around him, delivering the most pleasure to him and you both.

“Look at me baby.” You spoke softly, eyes locking with Jack as he thrusted into you.

“Fuck me like I’m yours Jack. Use me. Make yourself feel good.” He groaned at your words, suddenly changing your position. He folded your legs over his shoulders, him hovering over you closely as you formed into the mating press. His speed increased, the sounds of skin slapping and moans echoing throughout the room. The candles in the background flickering over you, casting a beautiful light across your face.

“You are so beautiful.”

“And so are you my love.” You spoke, gasping as he hit that spot.

He pulled down your bra, rubbing his hands along your breast, squeezing and fondling the flesh. You elicited a whine, clenching on him harder.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum.” He grunted, a hand moving to rub your clit.

“Do it baby. Fill me up and make me cum.” You announced with a moan, taking to running your hands amongst your breast.

At that Jack came with a loud moan, his warmth filling you to the brim as he continued to rub your clit. He pulled a loud moan from you as well, announcing your release. You gushed all over him, squirting as you hit your peak.

His thrusts slowed as you both road out your highs, panting.

“Thank you baby.” He spoke softly, planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Anything for you my love.”

“Anything?” He questioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Okay, not just anything, there needs to be some negotiation here.” You giggled, brushing some of the curls off his sweaty face.

“Is eight daughters negotiable?”

“Fuck no. I am not pushing out eight babies, you’re out of your mind.”

“Six?” He spoke, causing you to laugh as you shake your head.

“That’s not an answer ma. I need words.”

“How about we negotiate a warm bath.”

“I’ll take it. Although I think we’ll probably need another one after that.” He said, you humming in question.

“Cause’ I’m not done with you yet ma. I still have a lot of frustrations to let out.”

[bay-did-nothing-wrong]

Hey I don't know if you've received an ask like this but Donnie proposing to his s/o ? What would it be like ?starry night maybe ?

Oh, I love me a starry 'K'night. Enjoy your stargazing, Nonnie!

Synopsis: It's time to tie the knot, he's prepared, he's ready, he's considered everything!... almost...

Genre: Fluff, crack, implied smut

Word count: 1883

Candles - lit.

Table - set.

Stars - positively glowing.

Now all that was missing was you. The brightest star of all.

He'd prepared for so long, drafted and redrafted his speech about a billion times, planned for over 6 months, waited for your schedule, his schedule, the ring, the weather, the planets to be perfect. And still, he was nervous.

The ring, he thought. For the millionth time, checking his pocket. Yes it's still there, like all the other times he checked.

A door creeked open and he spun towards the sound, and once his eyes settled onto you, his heart skipped, then compensated by kicking into overdrive.

You'd outdone yourself this time.

Your hair was shiny, cared for, styled in a hairstyle he'd only seen red-carpet celebrities have. You wore a tasteful amount of makeup - just some mascara and lip gloss - to accentuate his favourite parts of your face. Your outfit was a combination of formal and artistic in a way he was certain only you could pull off. Stunning.

"Hey, handsome." you greet coyly, as if unaware of how your beauty was making his brain short-circuit.

"Hello, comet."

You seemed to have failed to notice the setup behind him as your smile had not yet turned to that wide 'O' face of joy and wander you seemed to award him whenever he'd do anything nice for you.

And then it did.

Your eyes widened, your arms raising from your sides to cover your mouth in astonishment. You seem to have noticed his surprise for you. Well, one of them anyway.

You'd grudgingly agreed to let him plan this year's anniversary as the last one had been at your place and you'd gone above and beyond on that one, so he'd argued it was his turn.

4 years. 4 years now, you granted him the joy, validation, hope, and satisfaction, he thought he'd never have before he met you. He thought this would be the best 4th anniversary he could grant you.

"Donnie..." you gasped in astonishment, once more giving him that boost of confidence and pride that only you could give.

"We can see all the stars now."

He'd spend days building parts, welding the scaffolding and structure together and some more days, getting it all there and putting it together,all without attracting suspicion to himself on the roof of your apartment building.

That night was new Moon. And hopefully, your new Moon.

You still seemed to be overcoming your initial shock as he finally put an arm on your lower back, and lead you inside the tent. Or what looked like one anyway.

In reality he'd created your own stargazing sphere where you could observe the stars as if from an observatory, though the structure itself was the telescope, where the stars would be closer to you than you could ever imagine.

"Did you make this yourself?"

"Mhm."

You scoffed, the smile on your face returning, "Modest as always."

He chuckled at that as well, though he had little in the way of responses, so he just smoothed his hand over your waist and and lead you towards the entry.

"Shall we?"

"Absolutely!"

"Your excitement was unfathomable and all of a sudden his nerves seemed to melt, much like the sunset had over the cityscape of New York.

Inside the observatory awaited you a large garden swing for the two of you, and a tiny table on the side with some wine and sweet treats, prepared by his little brother.

You seemed to be unable to take your eyes off the ceiling, the magnifying glass separating you and the sky amplifying every single star in the sky to look almost close enough to touch. In fact, you seemed so distracted by it that he had to guide and steer you so you wouldn't smack your foot on the swing, God knows that could ruin the mood.

"This is unbelievable, Donnie." you mumbled as you settled into the swing.

It truly was unbelievable. It was unbelievable how you two had found each other. It was unbelievable how you had gravitated together as if you knew that's what was missing from your lives. It was unbelievable how you'd stayed together against all odds after 4 long years of daily trials and hardships.

And it was 100% unbelievable how you looked like a deity made of heat and light under the amplified light of the night sky.

He sat by you and reached for the bottle of champagne and two flutes he'd helpfully put on that tiny table.

He knew whatever happened that night could not separate you two, nothing could, though he still did have a buzzing layer of giddy under his tough skin that put a tiny tremor in his hands, got his eyes shifting and searching your face constantly.

He couldn't wait.

He held the glasses and poured a generous amount in each one, you were here to celebrate after all, then put the bottle down and took into his hand a plate of chocolate strawberries.

"A treat, comet?"

As soon as your eyes landed on the desert they widened back up though this time escorted by a bright smile.

"Oh, I love!" you exclaimed, reaching for the plate. He couldn't be happier at your pure and unrestrained appreciation of all his gestures of affection. He may not have been the greatest with words, but he could trust that you would hear his actions.

"And I love you." he mumbled under his breath, incapable of splitting his eyes from the sight of you.

"I love you too." you whispered back, lifting yourself off the swing to give him a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes shit, so he could better relish the taste of your lip gloss and the scent of your perfume. The silken touch of your skin onto his drove his pulse straight into the heavens, and that is where he wish he could stay.

Though, you had to pull away, and as much as that saddened him a little, he still had something more grand to look forward to.

You sat back down by his side, where he wanted you to stay, and leaned your head over his shoulder, which reminded him he still had a pair of champagne flutes in his hand.

"Should we make a toast?"

"Ooh, fancy." you giggled, taking one of the dainty glasses into your hand.

You'd told him on date one that you never wanted him to spend money on you, and that you could not be impressed by big restaurants and jewels.

But he begged to differ. There was one jewel he knew would impress you.

“Say we toast to...” your eyes seemed to get away from him, you seemed to be searching for the proper words, and then a smug, sort of mischievous grin split your lips, “the future!”

He decided to indulge you, “To the future!”

He went to take a sip but stopped just before, to watch you sip on your champagne. He made mental note to thank his father for teaching him stealth.

Clink clink!

“The fu...Ah!” you gasped as you looked down at the glass.

Here we go, he thought.

Donatello put his own glass down, grabbed the tiny silken box from his pocket, and went to kneel before you.

“(Y/N), we’ve been together for years and we’ve been friends for even longer. We have gone through...” Fuck, he was blanking, ‘Really?! Now?!’, “countless obstacles together. You have pulled me through some of my darkest patches, and after everything you’ve done for me, all I could do to repay you,”your brows drew up, your eyes became twice as shiny as unshed tears gathered by the waterline, there he goes, “is promise myself to you.” he instinctively opened the little box, just like he’d practiced, swallowed a large breath and finally asked, “(Y/N), will you do me the honor” keep it together, stay calm, “of being my partner in life for as long as the stars will shine?”

All he could hear was some sniffling and soft hiccups from you, that was not a no.

“Well,” ‘Well? This can’t be good...’, “This sort of...” another sniffle as you wiped your eyes and readjusted on the swing, “ruins my thing.”

Huh?

You slid off the swing, kneeling before him and now he was truly blanking. What the genuine fuck? This was not a no, nor a yes, what were you doing?!

“Donatello Hamato, I love you with every living cell in me. You complete me, you are the perfect balance to my crazy, the peace to my chaos. I owe my happiness and current life to you. Donatello, will you be my loving husband for as long as you will have me?...”

He was suddenly short of breath, it seemed something was crushing his chest, something was squeezing at his heart. And now he was tearing up. Even more so as you pulled put a much larger box, and opened it to reveal a large silver band.

“... Because I would love to be with you...” you could no longer steady your voice, “for as long as the stars will shine.”

He stretched his arms around you, forgetting all about the rings, both yours and his, as he latched onto you, the scent of your perfume, the feel of your skin, to anchor him back into reality. Yes, this was real. You were real. You really did just ask him to be your husband.

“Yes, I will be your loving,” short shallow gasps tried to fill his lings with oxygen,  “caring husband, until I am no more.”

You held each other like this, until you were strong enough to share your first kiss with your betrothed, with the stars as your witness.

Bonus:

The tears had finally ran dry, the champagne had been mostly drank and the stars were soon going to retire for the night.

The two of you were gently rocking back and forth on the swing, in comfortable silence. You just sat there gazing at your ring, Donnie’s ring.

Where the hell did he get a diamond that big?

“Don?”

“Yes?”

“Where’d you get a diamond this big?”

“I made it.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

You needed a second to contemplate how the hell...

Now that the mood had shifted, so had you, sitting on your knees by him, finally letting your hands roam a bit over you fiance.

“So, what you’re saying is...” a hand slid up the side of his neck, as your lips fell to the opposite side in quick succession, “that you crushed a bunch of carbon just to make this for me?”

He sighed a heavy breath as he seemed to resign himself to your affection.

“In short, yes.”

You could feel the soft goosebumps pass under your hand, and took that as an encouragement.

“Know what else needs crushing?”

“What?”

“Your fiance’s bed.”

A self-assured chuckle left his gasping lungs, as he grabbed the back of your thighs, and in some quick and, in your eyes, dizzying movements he was on the fire escape by your window, that now had an outside handle.

“Anything for my lovely fiance.”

And soon, the stars were no longer your only witnesses, instead the whole neighborhood learned about your consumption.

.

.

tags

@turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @aurora-the-kunoichi @go-shameless-weeb @shadow-ninjas @remmushound @samyp05 @thatonegothicgirl

[asteriismos]

flashing lights — bill denbrough

pairing: bill denbrough x fem! reader

warning(s): smut, eighteen! bill denbrough, is it choking if he doesn’t squeeze?, fingering, piv sex, cursing, ig kinda degrading idk tho judge for yourself, unedited

summary: bill, the star baseball player of derry, and you, from another high school, meet in the locker room and get to know each other. 

words: 3.1k

note: don’t say i never gave you anything i am a woman of my word

sitting here in the bleachers adjacent to the baseball field, with the setting sun in your gaze and the feeling of newly spring wind on your skin, you had high hopes that your schools baseball team would win. out of all the schools in lieu with your own, bangor high school, derry’s team was the most anticipated of in the season. where most high schools in the nation favored the fall sport of football, the central part of maine where you lived actually liked baseball more, so when the first sprouts of spring showed, everyone was excited for the next season. 

you were a senior, almost finished with school and personally tasked yourself and your group of friends with trying to go to every single baseball game that you all could make it to - whether they were at home or away. 

“look, he’s up to bat,” your friend marcella said, catching your attention by lightly tapping your shoulder and motioning to the field. there you saw your close friend owen, who was the star player of your school’s team and one of your friends since you were a little kid. he was the person who introduced you to the group that you were here with now, here specifically to cheer him on. 

you saw him walk to home plate, bat in hand and getting into position to swing. your eyes took you across from him to the pitcher of the other team, who you didn’t know but could see the name displayed on the back of his shirt. denbrough. you raised your eyebrow at the last name, it didn’t ring a bell. 

the crowd started to cheer for your friend, waiting for denbrough to throw the first pitch. everything became silent, and the ball was thrown with stellar accuracy. whoever this denbrough boy was, he was seemingly a really good pitcher. when the second ball was thrown and owen missed yet again, your hand ran through your hair nervously. you could hear people whispering all around you, wondering if he was going to strike out. 

just as if someone of the heavens was listening to the anxious worries of your fellow classmates, denbrough went to throw the ball and owen swung and the ball went flying, going straight for the outfield as owen ran with all his might to first base. you cheered with your friends, yelling words of encouragement and praise towards your team. 

the game, from that point, was in your high schools favor. it was seemingly decided almost halfway through that bangor high school had it in the bag, which did nothing for any person in your crowds ego. just as the last inning was finished, your school came out victorious. 

“hopefully this means that we’re going to the championships this year,” you heard people say. “and maybe we can host it at our school so we don’t have to drive all the way out here again.” 

you were anxious to see your friend, running down the stairs of the bleachers and shouting his name, but owen didn’t hear you. sighing, you turned to your group to say, “should we get back home?” the team would have to come back by bus anyways, which sucked, because you wanted to congratulate your friend on such a good win. 

“yeah, probably before it gets too late, you know how bad those backroads are,” jake stated. “do you want to catch a ride with me? im sure marcella can take your car back.” 

half of you wanted to go with them and just see owen later, but to you, it felt like poor taste to make him wait that long. plus, maybe you could catch him before he left. you shook your head, “no, i’ll stay. i want to see the team. go without me, I'll see you tomorrow.” 

jake laughed. “okay, just don’t get lost.” he wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner and walked away, taking your friends with him and leaving you alone in the front of derry high school. 

you had been here once before, just for a short while and after a baseball game like right now. but that was all the way back during freshman year when you were trying to find the bathroom, you really had no idea where the locker rooms were. 

opening the large door, you started along the main hallway, looking at the posters that aligned the wall that reminded you of your own school. derry was really similar in layout, so perhaps it wouldn’t be that hard. turning the corner, you saw a sign that pointed to the gym and the locker rooms. in no time you were there, but there was no one coming out of the doors. had they already left and you missed them? it was silent. 

you put your ear to the door and listened, hearing some rustling. you knocked, but there was no answer, making you raise your eyebrow. and you don’t exactly know what prompted you to open the wooden door and make your way inside, but you did, and along the array of closed lockers, your eyes took you to the one person who was in there. 

it was the denbrough pitcher. 

you got a good look of him now, with his honeyed locks that fell messy on his forehead, standing taller than you. his back was slightly turned to you and through his jersey you could see his toned back muscles, making you lose yourself for a moment and send you almost stumbling over your feet. you knew that he was attractive from the moment you set your eyes on him but you didn’t know that he was this attractive. 

he turned around now and immediately those dazzling cerulean blue eyes landed on you, making your face heat up in realizing that this was not the visitors locker room like you had intended on trying to find. 

“sorry,” you fumbled out after a moment of shameless staring. “I was looking for my friend.” denbrough tilted his head to the side and you watched him take out a bag and push his locker door closed. instead of walking out like you should’ve, you just stood there watching him. it was in poor taste, since the longer you looked at him, you could see clearly that he was angry. 

a tiny grin came to his face. “it’s fine, no one’s in here except me anyways.” a silent moment passed and then a quizzical look came to his face, eyes falling back on you. “wait . . . weren’t you cheering on the other team?” he had noticed you, just as you were now noticing him. the room seemed a lot smaller than it had earlier and you ignored the fluttering feeling in your stomach the longer he stared at you. you didn’t even know his name. 

“yeah, it was a good game,” you shrugged your shoulders. 

“we should’ve won that game.” 

a cocky grin splayed on your features. “well, im sure you’ll get another shot next time.” you would have to play them again to secure a spot in the championships, it was still rather early in the season anyways. 

“will you be at the next game?” denbrough asked, he walked closer to you now, and there was a look in his eyes that was not easy to mistake. he was looking at you like you were a full course meal and he was the hungriest man on earth. and you liked the way that he looked at you, this gorgeous boy that you had barely met, and you wanted him to keep looking at you like that. well, you would rather him be doing other things. “maybe we could go do something together afterwards.” now you were certain of his likeness for you. 

you gave him a smirk. “well, i don’t know about that, i wouldn’t want to get involved with the opposing team.” when he noticed you were directly giving back the same energy he was giving, his feet stopped so he was just inches away from you. it took everything in you to keep yourself from grabbing him by those large muscles and - 

in a moment of weakness or just pure idiocy, you did exactly as you thought, lunging yourself forward, hands reaching for his face and pulling him into a searing kiss. when he reciprocated your movements, you had to stop another smirk from rising to your face, pushing it down and focusing on your hands that made it’s way to his soft hair. 

your kiss was unexpected by denbrough, though seemingly not unwelcome since his hands found their place exploring your sides, not being exactly gentle with his touches which you didn’t mind. this was so unlike you, doing something like this with someone you didn’t know. and to be honest, it was unlike him, too. 

but both of you were giving each other the ‘fuck me’ eyes and well, you only live once, right? 

as the kiss became more sloppy and he broke it to press kisses to your jawline and trailing down your neck, you breathed out and closed your eyes. “I don’t even know your name.” you sighed into his touches though, not really caring what his name was but knowing that it would probably be useful sometime soon. 

denbrough came back up to meet your gaze. “it’s bill,” he gave you a grin. “pleasure to meet you.” there was a sense of teasing in his tone, which you would’ve laughed at if his hands weren't reaching for where your shirt met your pants. 

“y/n,” you said weakly, already feeling your legs start to give out by the way that he was looking at you. you reached out to bill, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours again. he chuckled at your eagerness, giving you what you wanted by slowly pushing you against the lockers behind you. you felt the cool metal through your shirt and instantly realized how hot it was getting in this locker room, your skin was already on fire. 

bill reattached his lips to your skin and you spent the time trying to undo the belt that was around his pants that nicely accentuated everything that you wanted from him. thank god for baseball pants. 

tentatively, you pressed your hips against his and you heard a groan leave his throat, his lips stalling for a moment and then going back to his earlier movements. you were well aware of how excited he was, taking a moment to note that you could feel that he was absolutely fucking enormous. 

of course he was. 

as if he had enough of this teasing, his hand reached down and went straight under the band of your pants, being met with the wetness that was gathering in your panties. you bucked your hips forward into his hand and he smirked at how compliant you seemed to be with him. his other hand was gripping your side, keeping you close to him while the other pushed your panties to the side and the pad of his pointer finger came into contact with your slit. 

you moaned out and bill covered your mouth with his own, not kissing you but keeping it there. “so tell me,” he said, breath hot against you, finger tracing a line from your slick folds to your clit, making you almost keel over if it hadn’t been for his hand keeping you up and body pressing you farther into the locker. “this friend of yours, he was on your team wasn’t he?” 

you nodded, not trusting your voice. but he didn’t seem to like that, his hand stalling and not moving no matter how much you tried to gain friction. 

“answer me with words,” the hand on your side coming up to the bottom of your throat so you were forced to look at him in the face, those blue eyes on him seemingly had become darker. 

you took in a sharp breath. “yes,” you answered. his movements started again, but this time he took one finger and pushed it inside you till he was knuckle deep in, a large moan falling off of your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“and how do you think he would feel seeing you like this for me? the star player of the other team?” bill’s tone was condescending and you wondered if he was normally like this, or he was just angry about the outcome of the game. his finger sped up, soon being joined with another one that slipped in with ease. you were so wet for him already. “but you wouldn’t care, would you?” 

it was seemingly rhetorical, because he didn’t wait for you to answer and instead attached his lips to your throat, teeth grazing a point that had you gasping, hand coming and tugging on those locks of his, the other falling to his neck. 

“bill,” you muttered. “please just-” you were cut off by a moan, gripping him close as his thumb came into contact with your clit and rubbed tight circles against it. 

he looked up at you from the mess he was creating on your neck. “please what?” 

“just fuck me.” 

you were really in no position to be making such requests since bill seemed to be in control (which really, you didn’t mind if it meant that he was making you feel good in the process), but at this point you were too strung out to care what he thought of the rather forward request. you knew that you needed him and you needed him now. 

bill pulled away from you and you took in his now ragged features, noticing the tint of red in his cheeks and the freckles that dotted them, and the goldenness that he seems to radiate. in some ways you hoped that this wouldn’t be your only encounter with the denbrough boy, but that was something to worry about later, since his hands were undoing the rest of his belt and you knew that was your cue to do the same with your own pants. 

soon enough you were back in the same position, one of his hands next to your head on the locker behind you as he moved to position his cock at your entrance, eyes meeting with yours as he pushed in to look at your reaction. and it was everything that he hoped to see, your mouth opening into an ‘o’ shape, lips parted and eyes never leaving his own. 

once he bottomed out, he already started a fast rhythm, giving you little to no time to adjust. but you were so needy you didn’t care, not one bit because he was making you feel so good that you wished for this moment to last forever. and you were already so wet and willing, bill couldn’t wait a second longer. 

your hands gripped onto his forearms, steadying yourself, but it was hard to keep your legs from giving out. bill must've noticed your struggle and leaned down, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and hoisting you up in his arms, using the leverage of the locker to fuck into you. 

the change in position made you quiver in his arms like putty, arms wrapping around his neck and caging him close to you. incoherent words fell from your mouth that wouldn’t close no matter how hard you tried, while his pace became fast, rough, and unrelenting. you didn’t know bill well but you could tell that he was adamant about making you feel good, which fueled the fire inside of you even more. 

if he was tired from playing the game, he didn’t even show it. bill fucked into you with such a frenzy that it was almost animalistic, which made you wonder how much energy this boy possibly had. what you didn’t know was it was your moans what were spurring him on, your moans that kept him going. bill had already been to point of exhaustion from the game but you were able to give him a second wind and he was not fucking up this one like he had fucked up in the game. his determination both of the field and in this moment caught up with him and well, he was bringing all of his emotion out. 

and you loved it so much that you couldn’t think straight. all you could do was try and keep yourself still, words stringing together into barely put together sentences of oh fuck yes and that feels so good. 

it was a moment of pure bliss that you didn’t even feel yourself start to clench around him, noticing it finally when you felt every inch of him scrape against your willing walls, bringing you closer to that cliff into a sea of pleasure that only he could give you. what finally made you break was the groans that he was making, which were hot and heavy and like heaven to your ears that you knew you would be playing on repeat before you went to sleep tonight. 

and then his hand slipped between your legs, pressing up against your swollen clit and that was it. you were sent into a state of pure, fucked out bliss as you came around him, your moans everything but silent. luckily there seemed to be no one around to hear, and if they did they didn’t bother with stopping it.

a few thrusts afterwards and with an insistent command from you to cum inside you because you were on the pill, bill came undone and it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in his life. as if this boy couldn’t get more perfect, haven been basically sent to you on a gift from god himself. he pulled out and you could feel the evidence slightly dripping out of you and onto your thighs. 

there was a moment of cleaning up, where he actually grabbed a towel from his locker and helped you wipe away everything and eventually sit down onto the bench between the sides of lockers. where you thought would be awkwardness, there wasn’t, a few words passed between the two of you and then you told him that you should go, you had to drive home. 

surprisingly, he asked if you needed help and then you remembered you barely knew him and shook your head. it was late anyways, he probably had things to do. 

and when you got control of your limbs again (which bill cheekily smirked at), you walked out of the high school, him trailing behind you. you gave him one last look before parting ways, and in the heat of the moment, you told him your number and to call him if he ever wanted to get together again. 

[ayybtch]

Bread

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 5 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,292

Chapter Warnings: Our two favorite idiots are so blind it’s not even funny, lots of yearning, some brief mentions of alcohol consumption towards the end

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me on getting this posted. School and work have been crazy, but I’m almost done for the semester so hopefully it won't be as long for the next update. Shout out to my Grandma for sending me her paprikash recipe so I would actually know what I was talking about for this chapter. We literally never speak but she did me a real solid on this one and I will be adding paprikash into my regular cooking schedule once fall hits. Full disclosure though, I literally Googled “What wine pairs with chicken paprikash” and the wines mentioned are what it gave me. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your guys’s comments, it really makes my day.

Hey, so everyone is going to be out on a mission tomorrow night except for me. Any chance I can cash in on that raincheck? There’s a Bewitched marathon happening.

You smiled at Wanda’s message, quickly typing out your response. Definitely! Would you like to join me for bread day tomorrow?

She responded almost immediately. YES!

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She had been wanting to make bread ever since the two of you made snickerdoodles. She brought it up almost constantly, mostly as a joke to get back at you for all of the times you teased her about it.

Up to this point, Wanda refused to accept any of your attempts to say thank you for helping you out through the cupcake debacle, saying that this was the sort of thing that friends were for. It only felt right that this should be the next thing to bake as your own special way of saying thank you.

As excited as you were to spend time with her and teach her how to do this, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous at the same time. Why had Wanda decided to share her sexuality with you after all this time?

Okay, scratch that. You understood why she shared it with you when she did. The real question is what to do with the information now that you had it.

Was it just a general knowledge sort of a deal? Or was this her way of trying to say she was interested?

You groaned and put your head in your hands. This is why you hadn’t dated someone since your last relationship ended. You needed big flashing lights that screamed “I want to date you!” before you’d catch on, and even that didn’t work sometimes. If someone tried to be subtle, you were an absolute lost cause. You did your best to recall every interaction you had with Wanda that could even remotely be considered as her flirting or expressing interest.

She did smile at you a lot, even more than she smiled at Sam and Bucky who she clearly adored. She also certainly didn’t shy away from physical contact and had even initiated it several times. She had also remembered your coffee and bagel order from the one random time it came up weeks ago...

Suddenly, everything started to add up. All of those glances that had left your heart racing, all of those little touches...maybe Wanda was interested in you?

Your heart felt ready to burst out of your chest with joy.

Wanda didn’t arrive at the bakery until almost noon. The majority of the bread had been baked already; the only bread left to make was hers.

The two of you said your hello’s and caught up a bit as she stepped in to put on her apron and began washing her hands. Once the conversation slowed, you started your rundown for today’s bake.

“Bread is actually a lot easier than it looks but there are a couple of points we’re going to need to be careful at. I’ll remind you about them as we go about but I figured it would be good to have them all in your head now.

“We’re going to be very conscientious about temperatures this entire bake in a way we haven’t really needed to before. When we’re dealing with the yeast, we need the milk around 110 to 115o so the yeast activates properly. We also want things to be warm during the rise times, which shouldn’t be too much of an issue given the ovens have been on most of the day. Once it’s in the oven, we aren’t going to mess with it at all until the last couple minutes and that’s only if we need it to brown further.”

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “I don’t know how much of an actual problem this is because you’re here, but I always hear a lot about overworking or underworking the dough. How do I know if it’s been kneaded enough?”

“Ah, good question! If the dough keeps getting really flat and not holding its shape, it’s underworked. If the dough is overworked, it gets kind of hard and not easy to work with. The good news is that we’re kneading by hand since it’s your first time and it’s a lot less likely to happen that way than in a mixer.”

She looked unconvinced but nodded. “Okay, so where do we begin?”

The first fifteen minutes of the bake flew by quickly. The yeast mixture had been prepared and was almost ready for the rest of the ingredients to be mixed in. Wanda was completely in awe at how the mixture looked.

To be fair to her though, the yeast mixture does look very weird if you’re not used to seeing it.

Once the flour, salt, and eggs were mixed in, the true fun began. Everything was mixed just enough to be combined into a rough, sticky ball of dough before being taken out of the mixer and onto the floured counter. Wanda followed along as you sprinkled some flour on your dough and began to knead, doing her best to mirror your motions.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you worked the dough, waiting to see what she would do. It was hard to hold back your giggles as you watched her. She was practically just squeezing the dough in different directions. You gave her a few minutes to see if she would work things out, but eventually, you set your dough down and moved closer to her.

“Here, let me help,” you said. Your hands moved so they were on top of hers, you tried guiding her through the motions, only for things to fail miserably.

“Okay, can I try something that might be a little weird? It’s just that I’m not used to kneading at an angle like that so it’s throwing off my muscle memory.”

She nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were now standing behind her. Your arms slid around either side of her waist and your hands rested on top of hers. This time, your hands knew what they were doing and you were able to help guide her through the motion. Even after she got it, you remained standing behind her, your chin resting against her shoulder.

The feelings that washed over you as you stood there with her were hard to describe. There was nothing necessarily comfortable about the position you were in, but your whole body felt more relaxed than it had all day. At the same time though, everything felt electrifying. You hoped she couldn’t feel the way your heart was thumping against your chest.

It wasn’t until you realized Wanda had paused and turned back slightly to face you slightly that you stepped back. An apology rose up in your throat only to die as you noticed the small smile on her face. You shot a smile back at her before moving back to your spot, turning your attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the bake went smoothly, despite Wanda’s fretting about if the bread was rising enough. It didn’t take long before you had two perfectly round loaves of bread sitting next to each other on the cooling rack. Wanda had not stopped smiling since they came out of the oven. Even though that was her usual response, this time felt different.

For the second time that day, you were left trying to describe impossible feelings. Was it her eyes that felt different? They were lit beautifully, radiating so much joy it was impossible to not feel just as excited. But how was that any different from usual? Her eyes always captivated you and left you breathless. Maybe it was the new shade of pink lipstick she had on. It was perfectly accentuating the shape of her lips, to the point you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to feel them pressed against yours.

You may not be able to pinpoint what the look was, all you knew is that you were grateful to be a part of why her smile was so big.

After she finished taking pictures of the loaves, she turned to you. “That was incredible! I had no idea bread could be that simple.”

You nodded along, unable to hold back a smile. “I told you it wasn’t too bad, there are just a couple spots you have to be sure to navigate well. And clearly -” you gestured towards the loaves, “- you did. Maybe I should start worrying about you stealing my job.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen at your teasing.

As her laugher began to die out, her focus turned back on to you. “Okay, so what time were you thinking of coming over? I’m making us dinner and want to try and have it finishing up right around the time you get there.”

You glanced over at the clock and then back to the to-do list written out on the whiteboard above your desk before answering, “I think it’ll probably be close to five if I had to guess. I still have to finish cleaning some stuff here and I promised to go help Charlie work out some menu options for that picnic thing that’s coming up.”

Wanda nodded along, “Are you going to that?”

“I’m working it, so I, unfortunately, don’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded again. “Same here, actually. All of the Avengers are required to be unless there’s some sort of alien invasion again or something…” She trailed off a moment before continuing. “I was planning on making paprikash. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if there’s anything you can’t or don’t like to eat.”

“I’ve actually never had that before so that would be wonderful! I’m pretty easy when it comes to food. The only things I don’t like are mushrooms and zucchini, but I’ll still eat them if I have to.”

Wanda gasped, “You don’t like mushrooms? How do you not like mushrooms?”

You just shrugged, “Okay, I’m actually pretty neutral on mushrooms. I’ll still eat them. I just don’t go out of my way to make them for myself. Zucchini is a firm no, though.”

She gave you a side-eye but relented. “Well, there are no mushrooms or zucchini in this, but just know I’m going to have to keep an eye on you from now on. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far into our friendship without me knowing you’re an anti-mushroom heathen.”

The two of you joked around for a few minutes longer before she left to start preparing for dinner.

Planning the menu with Charlie didn’t take very long, which you were grateful for. He already had a decent idea of what he wanted to do, so the main thing left was to figure out how much food to order to prepare it. The two of you also agreed upon what you needed to make. Most of your responsibilities centered around desserts, specifically pies, though you agreed to make some fresh rolls and soft pretzels as well.

You were thankful for the meeting to end though because it meant the remaining time you had left could be spent getting ready to go see Wanda.

‘Getting ready’ was perhaps a bit dramatic. You were just changing out of your usual work clothes into something a little cuter. It was nothing particularly fancy, but it was an outfit you felt both confident and comfortable in. You had also made sure to pack some toiletries that morning, allowing you to freshen up your deodorant and brush your teeth as well.

As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery. The past few times you’ve made your way to that part of the building you’ve been nervous about the other Avengers not wanting you there. This time though, all of your nerves could be attributed entirely to Wanda. You weren’t sure what to expect of tonight, but you were determined to have a fun night filled with food and good company.

The warm smell of paprika filled the air and made your stomach grumble as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. Once you were inside, you found Wanda in the kitchen, stirring in some additional seasonings.

“This smells incredible,” you said, setting the two loaves of bread down on the counter.

Wanda beamed. “Thanks! This is my great grandmother’s recipe and is one of my favorite things to make.” As she set the spoon down, she walked towards the fridge. “I bought some wine to go along with dinner if you would like some.”

“Yes please, wine sounds amazing right now.”

“I have a chardonnay and a Barolo, which would you prefer?” she asked, turning back towards you.

You shrugged, “Whichever one you want.”

She nodded and pulled out the Barolo. It didn’t take long for the bottle to be opened and to have a glass of wine in your hand.

It wasn’t until you took your first sip that you realized Wanda had also changed. Your breathing hitched as you looked her up and down. Gone were her jeans and old T-shirts, replaced by a pair of cut-off shorts and a stylishly oversized T-shirt. If it weren’t for the fuzzy wool socks on her feet, you’d assume she was camera-ready. Hell, even with the funny socks she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You realized you were staring and abruptly began looking around the kitchen, trying to find something to do that would take your mind off of how hot Wanda looked. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda shook her head no. “There’s not really anything to be done, this just needs to simmer for about another five minutes and we’ll be good to go. Why don’t you go have a seat at the table and I’ll be over in just a moment with some bread slices and butter. Once this is ready I’ll bring it in as well.”

You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen and towards the table.

It wasn’t until you were seated that you realized how well the table was set. Both seats had beautiful flatware laid out, with silverware organized neatly to the side. Underneath was a crisp, pure white table cloth. What caught your attention the most though were the two lit candles sitting between your chair and hers. It wasn’t until you noticed the candles that you also noticed the music playing softly in the background.

Everything about the setup screamed ‘fancy first date’.

Before you had much of a chance to dwell on the thought, Wanda arrived with several slices of bread and a small dish of butter. You thanked her before she walked back towards the kitchen. She returned soon after with the pot of paprikash, setting it on the hot pad in the center of the table. She walked around to her seat and soon both of you had your plates filled and began to eat.

It was impossible to hold back a satisfied sigh as you took your first bite. It tasted just as delicious, if not better than it smelled. The chicken was cooked perfectly and all but melted in your mouth. The paprika added a nice rich flavor and added extra depth to the creaminess of the sauce.

“Wanda this is incredible.”

She smiled at you brightly, “If you think it’s good by itself, try dipping the bread with some butter in it.”

You did as she said and this time instead of a satisfied sigh, you let out a satisfied moan. “You are going to have to give me this recipe. This is so good I don’t even know what to say, all I want to do is keep eating.”

Wanda laughed at your enthusiasm. “Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to make it sometime. It’s about time I taught you something in the kitchen.”

Dinner was a blast. The two of you spent more of it laughing and talking than eating. The bottle of Barolo was finished before dinner was done. It didn’t take long before it was replaced by the chardonnay.

Once dinner was over, you fought Wanda to let you help clean up the kitchen. Her argument that guests shouldn’t help was shot down as you pointed out she’s technically a guest in the bakery, yet she always helps clean up after she’s been in there. She grumbled about it but quickly conceded. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be cleaned up and even less time after that for her to drag you over to the couch.

The first-ever episode of “Bewitched” was halfway finished by the time the two of you had settled into your spots on the couch. Currently, Samantha and Darrin were at his ex-girlfriend's house for a dinner party and the girlfriend was doing everything she could to make Samantha feel inferior. Samantha, of course, wasn’t having it and was willing to fudge her promises of not using magic to level the playing field.

Wanda laughed along perfectly in time with the sitcom track. The more she laughed, the more your attention turned from being on the TV to be on her. This was the most relaxed and happy you had ever seen her. She had a small, almost imperceivable smile that grew as she became more and more emerged into the episode. Each time she laughed, you noticed how her nose would scrunch up in the cutest way and it took everything you had to not lean over and kiss her.

What you wouldn’t give to make her as happy as this show.

It wasn’t until the end credits were about to roll that you forced yourself to look back at the screen, unsure of how she’d respond if she caught you staring.

As the next episode cued up, she reached out and grabbed her glass of wine before turning to face you.“So, what do you think? Could I have been a Samantha in another life?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely, though I can’t see you being willing to hide your powers just because a man wants you to.”

Wanda nearly choked on the sip of wine she had taken. “You got me there.”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table before letting out a loud yawn. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you beforehand that wine makes me a little sleepy.” She paused for a moment before she continued, “It also makes me incredibly cuddly…”

A rush of emotions washed over you as you processed her words. Was she asking to come cuddle with you?

The hopeful look in her eye suggested she was.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over your body and you had to fight the urge to jump up and down from excitement. You did your best to collect yourself before you replied, hoping that the answer was indeed what you were looking for.

“Is that your way of asking if you can come snuggle?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, which made you laugh. You moved over on the couch, moving around some of the throw pillows so you could lay down.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

Wanda didn’t hesitate for a moment and soon was laying on top of you, her head resting on your chest. One of your arms wrapped loosely around her back after she settled in.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you laid there together, watching Bewitched until you fell asleep.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

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25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath. 

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways. 

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence. 

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed. 

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again. 

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank. 

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued. 

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom. 

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt. 

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more. 

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching. 

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

[wayward-dreamer]

Under The Red Hood

Square/s Filled: Red Hood (@anyfandomgoesbingo), Jensen Ackles (Tell Me A Story Bingo).

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,458

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, friend of a SPN crew member, who agrees to take the photos of Jensen in his Red Hood costume. They instantly catch each other’s eye, fighting the urge to jump each other until after the shoot is over.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut: Dirty talk, Oral Sex (male receiving), Hair pulling, Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it people), Fluff.

A/N: This one shot is also for @supernatural-jackles‘ Tell Me a Story Bingo, Square Filled: Jensen Ackles. Thanks to my twin @downanddirtydean for being beta on this one! And a special thanks to @wonder-cole as a conversation about Under the Red Hood sparked this fic idea! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Y/N walked through the studio lot, smiling as she walked past crew members that she recognized. Making her way to the costumes trailer, she adjusted the visitor badge around her neck, making sure it was visible. She had been on the Supernatural set a few times, each time going to visit her friend who worked in the costume department, and she always came back with amazing memories. Everyone was so nice and instantly made her feel welcomed, making her wish she could just ditch her actual job and somehow work there.

The last few times she had been there, she had only ever seen Jared. Jensen was an elusive figure in her mind, either never there when she was or extremely busy while filming that she never caught a glimpse of him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case this time around.

Finding the costumes trailer with ease, she walked up the small steps and knocked on the door. The door opened instantly, and she squealed as she saw her friend, Sarah, on the other side. They hugged tightly, happy to see each other as it had been a while since they had.

“Come in, come in,” Sarah muttered, gesturing quickly into the trailer.

She shut the door once Y/N walked in, her eyes scanned around the trailer at all the clothes in there.

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” Y/N said, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy week,” Sarah breathed, her hands on her hips as she looked around the small space. “But you have to see what I did.”

Sarah moved behind one of the clothes racks, and pushed a mannequin out, causing Y/N’s eyes to widen.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, as she walked closer to admire her friend’s handiwork.

Sarah was big into cosplay, making her own costumes and doing photoshoots, ones that Y/N was usually the photographer for. Sarah would also make outfits for other people, and as Y/N admired the Red Hood cosplay in front of her, she of course knew it was for someone else.

“Babe, this is fantastic!” Y/N couldn’t believe the detailing, her eyes constantly moving over every part of the costume.

“Thank you,” Sarah said, smiling wide. “And uh… it’s the real reason I called you here today.”

“Okay…” Y/N turned to her, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for her friend to explain.

Just as Sarah was about to speak, the door to the trailer opened and Y/N felt as if her knees were about to buckle. Jensen walked in, smiling at Sarah and giving her a hug, both of them discussing their days so far. She found herself staring at him, noticing that the cameras just didn’t do him justice. Seeing him right in front of her… she felt parched.

“Jensen, this is my friend, Y/N,” Sarah introduced them, smiling.

“Ah, so this is your photographer friend who I keep missing,” he said, a smile spreading across his face, every one of his brilliant white teeth beaming. “Good to finally meet you, Y/N.”

He offered her his hand, and she placed hers in his, telling herself to calm down as she shook it.

“You too,” she said, smiling back.

Sarah looked between them, knowingly. “Okay, so… the reason you’re here.”

“Yes, enlighten me,” Y/N muttered, turning to her.

Sarah looked between Jensen and her and smiled. “So, I made this on a whim, but then I remembered Jensen did Under the Red Hood and so I adjusted the measurements. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a photoshoot, and luckily he agreed.”

Y/N looked at Jensen and he shrugged, with a bright smirk on his face. She understood what Sarah was telling her straight away. She wanted her to take the photos. She was about to spend an extensive amount of time with this gorgeous man in front of her. She wasn’t nearly prepared for that.

“Well, luckily I have my camera in the car,” Y/N said, looking between them. “When are we thinking of doing it?”

“We’ve got an extended lunch, so we were thinking we’d head out to the old train tracks on the end of the road,” Jensen explained, his eyes boring into hers.

She nodded, trying to tell herself to speak but the words weren’t coming to her.

“So, you in?” Sarah asked, bouncing slightly on her feet, unable to contain her excitement.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his eyes glancing over Y/N as the smirk never left his face. With that look, how could she say no?

“Let’s do it,” she replied, smiling wide.

“Awesome.” He gave her a small nod, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes!” Sarah yelled with a small laugh. “Alright, you get dressed and I’ll keep everything I need. We’ll meet you at the car?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, a small smile on her face as she looked at her friend.

With one last glance at Jensen, she left the trailer and walked back to the parking lot. She walked over to her car, opening the passenger side door and taking out her camera bag. She waited by Sarah’s car, smiling as she thought about the small interaction between her and the green-eyed actor. There was an attraction already, she could sense it, and she had to hope it wouldn’t be too presumptuous of her to ask him over to her apartment once he finished filming.

Hearing footsteps approaching after a few minutes, she turned to see Sarah and Jensen walking over. He was now in the Red Hood outfit, and she felt a heat radiate throughout her body. The leather cinched in all the right places, and she found it hard to look away from him as he got closer. Sarah unlocked her car, dumping her bag in the backseat.

“What do you think?” he asked, his arms out to his sides as he turned slowly.

She quickly glanced down, biting her lip as she admired the way the leather pants accentuated his ass. Their eyes met as he turned back around, both of them smiling flirtatiously.

“I think… you don’t want to know what I think,” she replied, biting her lip.

His eyes moved over her; the smirk still present on his face. “Maybe I do.”

She shook her head with a small laugh, turning away from him and opening the door to the backseat, sitting behind the passenger side.

“Very considerate of you to give me shotgun,” he said, looking back at her as he sat in the passenger seat.

“Well, it just means you have to shut your cake hole,” she countered, laughing.

“Fan of the show, huh?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, nodding.

“You know, Jay…” Sarah started, as she pulled out of the parking space and drove towards the exit. “Y/N’s a Dean girl.”

She felt her cheeks heating up and was thankful she was sitting in the backseat, so he couldn’t see her.

“Good to know,” he said, softly as he continued to smile.

Sarah drove them out to the old tracks, surrounded by old factories that weren’t operational anymore. They got out of the car, both women taking what they needed with them, and walked along the buildings until they got to the tracks. Y/N suggested a few angles she could take photos from, seeing what would look better in the background before they started. She took a few photos of Jensen with the helmet on first, knowing it would easier on her if she couldn’t look into his eyes.

“Hey, do you think if they ever wrote Jason as older, you would do it?” she asked, as she checked over the last couple of pictures she took.

“If that happened, I certainly wouldn’t say no to at least auditioning,” he replied once he took off the helmet.

Sarah walked over, fixing his hair as told him to close his eyes, allowing her to cover his eyelids and around his eyes with the black makeup. She took out the red eye mask and fitted it over his eyes to his face, stepping back and admiring her work. Y/N was barely keeping it together before, and then Sarah had to go and add the damn mask.

Y/N took a deep breath as positioned herself with her camera again. It was becoming increasingly harder to look at him, and she was practically praying that Sarah would be satisfied by the number of photos soon, so that they could head out and she could actually do something about the way she was feeling. As she looked through the eyepiece, she saw him look at her directly and wink, before quickly turning back into the pose he was in. It was completely unfair that he knew the effect he was having on her and using it to his advantage.

Soon enough, Sarah looked through the photos and hugged her tightly, ecstatic about how they turned out. As she told her which ones to send to her, Y/N looked over at Jensen, smiling as she saw him looking at her. He walked over to Sarah, looking over her shoulder at the photos on the camera.

“These are great, Y/N,” he said, looking up at her. “Thanks for doing this.”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “No problem.”

“Alright, we better head back,” he sighed, frowning slightly. “As much fun as that was, I have to get back to being Dean.”

“Well, you’ve still got some time before you have to be back,” Sarah said, looking between them. “So why don’t I take the car back and you two can talk?”

Jensen and Y/N looked at each other, before she looked at her friend and glared at her.

“I’ll take your camera for you, too,” she offered, walking over to Y/N.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked, whispering as she continued to glare at her.

“You can thank me later,” Sarah whispered back, winking before she turned away.

“You two have fun,” Sarah called out, taking her bag and Y/N’s camera bag, along with the helmet to the costume.

“Wow, she really just left us out here,” Jensen muttered, his voice deep and gravelly. He chuckled as he looked over at Y/N, her laugh joining his.

“Yeah,” she agreed, shaking her head. “I guess we better get back.”

“Well…” he trailed off, turning to her. “I’ve got time to spare if you do.”

She looked at him, sighing as she bit her lip, contemplating what he was suggesting. “Where?” she asked, glancing around.

He smirked, offering her his gloved hand. “Follow me.”

Y/N slipped her hand into Jensen’s, allowing her to lead her past warehouses, coming to a small gap between two where he stopped. She turned to him and smiled, gasping as he leaned down, kissing her fervently. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself closer to him as he moved into her, pushing her up against the side of the warehouse. She pulled away from his lips, breathing harshly from the intensity of the kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you,” he mumbled against her lips, lightly nipping at her bottom one.

“I’m just glad you finally did,” she said, her eyes glancing over his outfit.

“Costume doing it for you, huh?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

“Fuck yes,” she gasped, grabbing his leather jacket in her hands and pulling him closer.

She kissed his pouty lips, softly sucking at the bottom one as she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together tightly, neither of them wanting to move as they continued their feverish embrace. She felt herself getting wet already, the attraction between causing her arousal to build.

“Fuck, I want you,” she whispered against his lips.

He groaned slightly as he pulled her closer and turned them around, his back now against the building. She reached for the belt on his pants, quickly unbuckling it as she unzipped the pants, tugging them down along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free from the confines, and she bit her lip at the sight of him.

She hummed as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, bending her head to drop some of her saliva along his length. “Fuck, your cock is so perfect.”

She pumped her hand back and forth, smirking as he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall. She moved down to her knees, smiling up at him as she leaned in, kissing the tip of his cock. She sucked at the pre-cum before moving her mouth over him, taking him in. She began to bob her head, his shaft sliding between her lips and hitting the back of her mouth with each stroke.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his hands moving into her hair. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

She moaned around him, the vibrations around his shaft shooting straight through his whole body, as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her wetness begin to soak her panties.

“Fucking love your mouth,” he grunted, as he watched her.

She looked up at him, winking as he watched his cock slide back and forth between her lips. She pulled back, gasping as her hand wrapped around it and stroked him, her saliva coating his shaft. His hand suddenly came down, stopping her movement.

“You got to stop, baby,” he said, breathing heavily. “I have to fuck you, and I won’t be able to if you keep going.”

She quickly stood up, stripping her jacket off and pulling up her top, revealing the black lacy bra she wore underneath. Jensen pulled back the Velcro of each glove, pulling them off and tossing them on the ground.

“Come here, darlin’,” he whispered, his Texas drawl seeping through as he cupped her face gently in his hands.

He leaned in, kissing her heatedly, her hands holding onto his wrists to keep him from moving. He moved one hand away from her face, his knuckles lightly brushing the soft skin of her stomach as it moved down to the top of her jeans. He opened the button and zip, slowly pushing his hand in and rubbing his fingers over the fabric of her wet panties.

“Jensen,” she gasped.

“Look what sucking my cock did, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “Can I see just how wet you are?”

She nodded, looking into his green eyes, still framed by the red mask. He slipped his hand past the waistband of her panties, his fingers moving lower between her folds. He groaned as they met her slick, smirking as he looked at her.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned, smiling at her. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

Jensen pulled his hand out of her panties and pulled her into him, turning her around and pressing her front against the wall. She gasped as she turned her head, looking back at him. He smirked at her as he hooked his fingers into the top of her jeans, pulling them down to her knees along with her panties. He let out a low grunt at the sight of her ass, his hand lifting up and landing against the globe, causing her to yelp.

“Fuck,” she gasped, a small chuckle leaving her lips.

He squeezed the flesh, smirking as their eyes met. “You like that, darlin’?”

She nodded, angling herself so that she could look at him.

“I’ll have to remember that for tonight,” he said, his voice low and deep.

She smiled, biting her lip at the realization that he wanted to see her again. He pushed his pants open a little wider, taking hold of his cock and placing it at her entrance. He teasingly pushed in an inch, the head of his cock moving in and then out, feeling her already clench around him.

“Fuck, Jensen,” she whimpered. “Please fuck me. Please.”

“Patience, Y/N,” he muttered, chuckling.

He pushed forward, his cock sinking into her heat right to the base, his pelvis pressed against her ass. He groaned, feeling her sheath him, clenching around him perfectly. He wasted no time, instantly setting a quick pace to his thrusts, moving deep within her.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, her hands balling into fists against wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, as he held onto her hips and pulled them back against his. “Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“Jay,” she gasped, looking back at him. “Fuck me harder, faster.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, making quick work of speeding up. He angled her hips and grunted, feeling his cock slide deeper into her and hit her sweet spot repeatedly as her walls clenched around him, causing her to cry out.

“Fuck yes! Right there,” she moaned, loudly. She had a brief thought that someone could hear them, but she forgot about it as he continued to thrust into her. “Fuck, Jensen, your cock feels so good inside me.”

His hand reached forward and wrapped around her hair, tugging it roughly. “Is that what you wanted, Y/N?”

“Yes, fuck yes!” she yelled. “God, feels so fucking good.”

He tugged her hair again, pulling her back towards him, her back pressed to his chest. He thrusted up into her, his lips close to her ear.

“Can’t wait for tonight,” he whispered, softly nipping at her ear lobe. “The things I’m going to do to you… you’re gonna be screaming my name all night, darlin’.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, turning her head and looking into his green orbs, his red eye mask still in place. She moaned loudly, feeling herself clench around him, as his thrusts began to falter. They were both close to their release, the coil within her winding tight.

“You’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah,” she cried out, nodding against his shoulder. “Make me cum.”

He grabbed her hips tight in his hands, his hips thrusting faster into her, the slap of skin mixing with their pleasured moans reaching their ears. She suddenly threw her head back, moaning as her climax hit her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she yelled. “Jensen, oh god yes!”

He felt his cock pulsing within her, causing him to stop his hips, as he throbbed and spurted ropes of cum within her, her walls contracting around him.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed.

Jensen leaned down, kissing her shoulder blade softly. He stood up and slowly pulled out of her, turning away from her as he pulled up his boxers. They redressed in silence, but Y/N couldn’t help but look at him as he fixed all the buckles and zips of the costume back into place. He glanced at her, smirking as he caught her looking at him.

“Man am I glad this worked for you,” he said, pulling the leather jacket back into place.

“Me too,” she said, softly as she smiled at him.

“I’ll have to remember it for another time,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

She hummed, as a playful glint in her eyes as she looked at him. “Maybe you’ll have to be dressed as Dean next time.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, stepping closer to her and pulling her into him. “You’re full of surprises, babe.”

“Yes, I am,” she whispered, softly pecking his lips.

“So… about tonight,” he started, chuckling slightly. “Uh, you don’t have to take it, but… the offer’s there.”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “There’s no way I’d give that up.”

He leaned in, kissing her sensually, pulling her close. Pulling away after a moment, he looked deep into her eyes.

“We really owe Sarah a big one,” he said, smirking.

“Absolutely,” she whispered, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and kissing him, passionately.

They hurried back to set, no one the wiser of what had occurred between them. Jared eyed him suspiciously, but he would just have to wait to hear that story. Y/N stayed for another couple of hours, soon saying her goodbyes to everyone and hugging Sarah, promising to tell her what happened later after she asked. As she grabbed her camera bag and left the set, she and Jensen exchanged looks, both of them smiling as they anticipated what would be happening later.

She walked towards her car, a spring in her step as she smiled, butterflies in her stomach as she couldn’t wait to spend the night with the green-eyed actor who had captured her heart.

And maybe, just maybe, it would end up being more than one night.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester​